Forgotten Memories
by Daniko
Summary: Kamerreon Drabble Challenge - Can you imagine how many people walked in the hallways of Hogwarts, their stories and memories? The walls of the castle have seen so much. So let's just remember a hundred of them. Various rating, average T.
1. Prejudice

**Title:** Forgotten Memories

**Rating:** T

**Challenge:** Kamerreon's Drabble Challenge

**Warnings:** Implicit and/or explicit sexual content, het, slash, and foul language. Possible AU in some chapters.

* * *

**Prejudice**

_Words: 430_

* * *

As he watched the parade of Death Eaters sit in the chair before the Wizengamot, Harry knew that the chances of an unbiased trial were very slim. Those people sitting in that chair were nothing more than dark wizards, supporters of the Dark Lord. Their judges couldn't care less about their names, their lives, their families, their problems, their fears and the justifications for their actions.

Some of them deserved exactly that kind of treatment, but others didn't.

And watching this pitiful show, Harry remembered the first time he ever judged someone based on other person's opinions and tendentious information.

It had been on his first year, it was his first encounter with a pureblood, on the train, when the blond wizard entered his compartment looking for him.

_"Is it true?" he said. __"They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?_

_"Yes," _Harry had said. He vaguely remembered paying some attention to Crabbe and Goyle, while the boy introduced them. And then…

_"And m__y name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

Ron had made a mocking sound and Malfoy had reacted to that. Ron had been as prejudiced as Malfoy, but Harry liked Ron, so it really hadn't mattered.

Soon Malfoy had returned his attention to Harry._ "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. __You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. __I can help you there."_

_He held out his hand to shake Harry__'s, but Harry didn't take it._

_"I think I can tell who the wrong sort__s are for myself, thanks," he said coolly._

In the end, he didn't.

The Chief Warlock was speaking: "Please, Mr. Malfoy, there is nothing you can say that can redeem what you did in service of the Dark Lord. You were perfectly aware of your actions. Your family's elitist ways are far well-know by the wizarding society. And you are not a good person. I don't think there would be anyone to speak for you at this moment."

Harry pondered his decision for about two seconds, before acting according to it. A man shouldn't be convicted for his blood status or his believes, disregarding his actions. And a court shouldn't be allowed to trial a person for being a bad person.

"Excuse me, your honour."

At his side Hermione was hissing his name in warning and pulling his sleeve to make him sit down. He ignored her. And he ignored Ron's gobsmacked face.

"Mr. Potter?" – confusion had came upon the court room.

"I'll speak for Draco Malfoy."

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**A/N:** The text in _italics_ is the original text by JKR in 'HP and the Sorcerer's Stone'.


	2. Dreams

**Dreams**

_Words: 510_

_Pairing:_ _Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald_

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was sitting before his desk on his Headmaster Office.

Fawkes was singing gently; buzzing and boiling sounds could be heard coming from the silver instruments lying on a shelf, which was hidden by multicoloured clouds of smoke. Some of his books were grumbling, but Dumbledore ignored them; if they want to sulk is their own problem.

The Headmaster had other things in his mind, like the piece of parchment in his desk, which was supposed to be a letter. From someone whom he never expected to hear from again.

"_I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please, I need to see you."_

Dumbledore would have recognised this handwriting anywhere, everywhere, because it had been the sweetest sight for him a long time ago. And because he couldn't forget, he found himself standing in front of the darkest room in the tallest tower of Nurmengard.

"I know you're there." – came the muffled statement from inside the room. Dumbledore gulped. He was not frightened, not anymore at least, but no man enjoys facing his greatest fear.

"What do you want, Gellert?"

"Come on, Al. You vant me to speak through closed doors?"

Dumbledore sighed. That he always complied with Grindelwald's requests was not lost on him. That's why he feared this man: for the power he held over him. The Headmaster entered the room and took in his old friend.

Grindelwald was a rag, it was the best it could be said. But his eyes… his eyes were the same; his expression too, like a mischievous child; his pose, with his shoulders straight and legs crossed. His hair was no longer curly, but straight and weak; his smile was bitter and his frame was to thin to be healthy.

"He has come back, has he not?" – the former blond man asked. Dumbledore nodded. – "And what do you plan on doing?" – like a puppet, Dumbledore told him everything; he knew he was being reckless, but he couldn't help himself. In the end, Gellert asked only one question, he didn't judge Dumbledore and that was something deeply appreciated. – "And the Hallows?"

"I will leave them some clues, perhaps. It is a Quest after all."

"Yes, let the legacy live in those children."

Gently, as if giving Dumbledore time to withdraw, Grindelwald put a hand on the other man's shoulders in understanding. Oh, how Dumbledore had missed this support, this warm safety.

And suddenly the time turned back and they were seventeen again, whether from a illusion or hallucination, Dumbledore could not tell, and they were embracing each other as if little or no time had passed since they last saw each other.

That night Dumbledore didn't return to Hogwarts, nor did he regretted it, but the following morning he was already flitting through Hogwarts hallways, his sadness carefully hidden beneath his jolly exterior.

Maybe in another life, there could have been happiness for him, but here… here is sins were too high. However, nothing good comes out of brooding and the time does not turn back because one lives dwelling on the lost dreams.

* * *

I sincerely hope that this doesn't freak you out... If it does, I'm sorry. Because this is actually a pet drabble to me, so it had to be posted.


	3. Sin

**Sin**

_Words: 516_

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle sat up straight on his bed in the Slytherin dorms. He was drenched in sweat; fear running freely through is body as he remembered the nightmare he just woke up from.

He had died, and the last thing he had seen was the green light of Avada Kedavra. He shook his mind.

Lord Voldemort won't die, because Lord Voldemort is strong.

Slowly, fearful, he laid his head in his pillow and fell asleep again, after casting a disgusted glare at his dorm mate who was snoring loudly.

Next morning he was freshly awake and neatly dressed, enjoying his breakfast when a petite Ravenclaw came to his table, fidgeting and looking positively terrified. She had blond hair and blue eyes, small frame and voluptuous curves; her cheeks were pink from embarrassment.

He fought the urge to hex her into oblivion. He hated this type of girls the most. He knew he was being watched and as it wouldn't do have teachers thinking less of him, he smiled politely and waited for the predictable outcome.

"Aa, Mr. Riddle." – she called and uncertainty could be heard in her voice. Oh, how he hated her already. He wanted to twist her little neck and watch the light leave her awfully earnest eyes. – "Tom... I was wondering… Next weekend we are allowed to visit Hogsmeade and I was wondering if you would like to come as well."

He breathed in and out until he felt the rage retreat. How dare her, this little stupid muggleborn girl, think herself worthy of Lord Voldemort? Who did she think she was? He smiled stiffly and gently denied her. She looked on the verge of tears and left before he could say anything else, thank Slytherin.

"Olive, wait." – her friend was calling her as Olive Hornby left the Great Hall. A high pitch shriek was heard and Tom realised that it was another girl laughing. He knew her, it was a Myrtle something, always complaining and crying because people made fun of her.

He hated Myrtle more than he thought possible considering she was a stupid simple bint, and it was a mystery how did she ever got sorted to the Ravenclaw House. She was weak, basic, terrible annoying and whining. She envy Olive, she hated Olive, she lusted after Tom, she ate like an ape, she was greedy with her friends… How is it possible for someone to commit so many of the seven deathly sins at once?

Well, Death would be her punishment. The Chamber would open.

As for Olive, she would be found dead, with her wrists sliced open, floating in the lake.

No one would notice Tom's smirk and the way he hummed satisfied trough the hallways of Hogwarts. No one, except the Transfiguration teacher, who would observe Tom carefully with his twinkling blue eyes.

Her suicide would be highly mourned for she was an outstanding girl: loving, smart, carefree… Or as Tom would say, weak and pathetic.

Olive had been punished with Death, too. And Olive's only sin was to love someone who could not be loved.

* * *

I did some research about Tom Riddle's earlier life and I think that I didn't commit any major mistakes against the canon, except that Olive was never haunted by Myrtle for she died at Hogwarts... If you see something else wrong, feel free to point it to me.


	4. Kiss

**Kiss**

_Words: 528_

_Pairing: Ginny/Blaise_

* * *

A sound slap echoed all the way through the Great Hall.

Blaise Zabini cringed. The sound had came from the opposite side of the room, which meant three things: first, it had came from the Gryffindor table; second, it had to be an incredible strong blow to reach the Slytherin table that high and third, it had to be dealt by Ginny Weasley or Hermione Granger.

"I warn you, Harry Potter, don't talk to me unless you wish a painful ending to this!!" – Ginny Weasley it was then. She stomped out of the Hall, leaving an astonished Harry Potter clutching tightly to his left cheek.

Blaise felt a wave of satisfaction raise within him. The Golden couple wasn't so perfect after all.

"Why are you so happy, Zabini?" – Draco Malfoy asked on his left, his cheeks pink, eyeing him suspiciously. Blaise smirked.

"Probably for the same reason _you_ are so satisfied…" – he said cryptically.

"I'm not satisfied." – the blond retorted childishly. – "I couldn't care less if the Weaselette breaks up with Potter or not."

"Yet, your mind provided you only one reason for my accusation. Curious, highly curious." – Draco just glared. Then his eyes glinted somewhat evilly. His smile was diabolic.

"Tell me Blaise, is that satisfaction of yours related to the fact that you have finally decided to… how did you put it?... Ah, yes, _touch that filthy blood traitor_?"

*

Hours later, Blaise was walking down the hallway to the dungeons, when he heard sniffling on the Potions classroom. Tired of prissy Hufflepuffs crying in the corners, he decided to do his Prefect's job and bully them back into their Common Room.

It turns out it was a very depressed female Weasley who was hurled in a corner. Blaise felt his chest clench at the sight. Stupid Potter. He had the only worthy girl in this godforsaken school and throws it all out…

"What do you want, Zabini?" – she hissed.

"Ask you if you are alright." – she snorted.

"Yeah, right." – she dismissed him indifferently. She answered, though. – "I will be alright once I hex that sorry ass of his, the bloody poof."

On other circumstances, Blaise would have noticed the accusations she had just made against Potter and would have run to tell Draco, but now his mind was elsewhere… Like on the tears he could see in those long, pale eyelashes, and those lips swollen from crying. He wondered what they would taste like.

Never one to deny his curious nature anything, because after all, his needs should be always fulfilled for he was a pureblood, Blaise closed the distance between their faces.

At first, Ginny freaked out and tried to get away, but Blaise would have none of it. He brought her close and she gave in. He nipped her lips and she allowed him entrance on her sweet mouth. It was the most satisfying snog he had ever gotten.

Later he would sit down next to Draco, emotionally and physically drained, but thoroughly satisfied.

"If I were you, I would snatch that Gryffindor of yours as soon as possible." – at Draco's quizzical look, he elaborated. – "I can assure you, Gryffindors sure can kiss."

* * *

Well, I find myself with a problem... My number of words keep increasing, which wasn't supposed to happen. I guess I don't do drabbles so well... =3

Anyway, the words in _italics_ are the expression Zabini used on 'HP and the Half-Blood Prince'.

And I have to say, Ginny is not homophobic, but of course she is mad that her boyfriend doesn't like girls.

Also, I wasn't specific about the time, because I thought it wasn't important.

... And that's pretty much it. Thank you for reading.


	5. Alone

**Alone**

_Words: 451_

_Pairing: Implicit Severus/Sirius_

* * *

I'm alone.

As the Dark Lord searches my mind, I allow him a limited access.

In the depths of my consciousness I hide my most precious secret. That I fear loneliness, I fear dying without feeling once again the warmth of love. I think I only loved once. That love has kept me sane, that love has kept me fighting…

However, I needed more. I never thought it would be possible, but my heart started to burn for another person, it burned for that man. And he died, thinking I hated him. Maybe he hated me to, in the end. I lost so many opportunities, I could have been happy.

Lily was happy, why shouldn't I be happy as well? Well, don't get me wrong. She is and will always be the love of my life. But she is dead… and I'm not.

I heard the Dark Lord speaking.

_"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen…__"_

And the man kept talking. Honestly, can't he tell that I couldn't care less even if my death sentence is already signed? There's nothing more to wish for in this life.

"_While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine… It cannot be any other way."_

The idea of dying alone scares me. But I don't deserve any better. By the looks of it, I never did. Lily left me, I never had any close friends, I betrayed my Lord, and I lost my last love…

I've been alone my whole life, why should my death be any different?

I faintly heard someone approach me. He is raven, not too tall and slender. It's not Black… Black was tall and bulky. He has green eyes. I recognise those eyes; Lily's eyes.

Maybe I won't have to die alone. Maybe she can be here with me, in the end.

"_Look at me." _I say to her child. He obliges. Thank you, you are more like your mother than I can ever tell you. You will do fine; I hope you can save us all…

I don't have the chance to tell him that. I see Black, and Lily and that annoying Potter creature. They are smiling, they are welcoming. I tried to save them, I really did, but I failed. They don't seem mad.

Black puts his arms around my shoulders. We are at King's Cross, where I used to catch a train for some place better. I bet I will go to somewhere better, now as well. King's Cross has never failed me before. Black takes me to the train.

I'm not alone.

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Well, this has less words... But I failed again... I tried to start writting less darker chapter and see where that has brought me. Tsk, tsk, it's useless, I'm a dark, dark creature. =3

Again, the words in _italics_ are the original text by JKR, this time from the 'HP and the Deathly Hallows'.


	6. Together

**Together**

_Words: 420_

_Pairing: More explicit Severus/Sirius_

* * *

Sirius Black was dead.

He knew it and he was pretty sure everyone alive knew it too. The problem was that, apparently, Death didn't know it, because Sirius Black was still hanging around a vaguely familiar drawing room, and something didn't let him walk out the door.

If he was honest with himself, which he was sometimes, he would say that this room was the late Potters' drawing room, where he had spent the best days of his life.

He had been there for sometime now, wondering what connections he would still have with the living world…

He found none. All his life he had lived through somebody else. Always through James, actually; he had enjoyed James' family who had treated him like a second son, his relationship with Lily, Harry… He had never had anything to call his own.

It was his fault, so no use in complaining now.

He sighed. Merlin, was he bored!...

Suddenly the door opened. He turned around startled, and was blinded by the white light coming from the next room. He exited the room, excited that he was finally moving on, when he found himself at King's Cross. 'Bloody hell?'

Nevertheless, the surprises did not end there, of course not, for, as he looked around, he saw that damned Snivellus standing there looking at him, with a look on his face that he did not like. Why in the God's mercy should he have to be haunted with the man in death as well? Didn't Snape have enough of making his life miserable?! Now he had to make his death miserable too?!

In the end, what bothered him the most was the look of sheer relief and need that Snivellus was sending him. Oh, he have would have loved to see that look when they were both walking around with very material bodies. He would love to feel _that_ wanted in life…

Merlin, he had loved this man for so long, even making himself unable to settle for another person, he had mourned the fact that he would never see Severus again when he himself had died… It had been Sirius last thought when he passed through the veil; Severus and Harry.

Never one to ask questions bigger than himself, Sirius decided to keep what he was given and that was an eternity with the man he cherished the most.

And so, he put his arm around Severus shoulders, and guided him to the train.

They would move on and they would do it together.

* * *

Well, aparently I'm not that dark bacause I had to give them their happy ending. Hope you enjoyed it... =]


	7. Rendezvous

**Rendez-vous**

_Words: 508_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

Neville Longbottom had always been a light sleeper, but after the war it had even gotten worse.

That's why he noticed when one of his roommates started to leave his dorm every night at midnight. He had gotten worried; Harry was not the secretive type, so there was no explanation for the fact that he had chosen the privacy of the night to deal with any issue he might have.

Neville followed Harry out of the portrait.

Harry walked fast, his destiny obviously defined, so midnight wanderings were out of question. The boy approached an old classroom that hadn't been used for as long as Neville had lived in the castle.

A tall male figure was waiting for Harry. As soon as they spotted each other, they ran for each other's arms. Neville froze when he realised that he was witnessing a lover's rendez-vous.

He wanted to turn around and give his friend privacy, but he couldn't for the life of him tear his eyes from a blushing Harry being thoroughly, reverently and lovingly kissed by a mysterious student. Neville watched in wonder as Harry surrendered to the stranger and allowed himself to be pushed against the classroom door.

That was when Harry's lover stepped in the moonlight. White-blond hair shone, pale face buried in Harry's neck, sucking and biting and nuzzling it tenderly; the usual scowl was gone, eyes were tinkling and the most beautiful, gentle smile adorned his face.

Neville's eyes widened impossibly as he watched Draco Malfoy snog Harry Potter.

"I missed you today, love, I did." – Malfoy was saying. – "Please don't be mad."

"I don't understand why we can't tell everybody…"

"Harry, I'm not ready to make this public." – the blond sighed, hugging Harry tightly. – "I need to be forgiven before you make them forgive me…"

It was obvious that this was a common discussion for them, because Harry nodded defeated.

When Malfoy started to pull Harry's sweater over his head, Neville decided that he had seen enough to know that Harry was not in any danger. In fact he was in good hands. He had never expected to see such an expression in Draco Malfoy's face; as if nothing would prevent him to have the other man in his arms.

~*~

Next morning, Neville was walking decidedly for the Great Hall.

As he was entering the magnificent entrance, he saw Malfoy approach the door too. Usually he would just ignore the creature, but he decided that he if Malfoy needed forgiveness to make Harry happy, Neville would be the first to give it to him.

"Good morning, Malfoy."

Everyone around them froze and gaped at Neville. Malfoy's eyes widened, but he soon recovered his posture. He bowed his head in appreciation.

"Good morning, Longbottom."

And ignoring people's angered expression, the teachers' gobsmacked faces and Harry's attentive and thankful eyes, Neville shook Malfoy's hand and proceeded to his House table, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

After all, Neville is the man that goes against his friends for their own good.

* * *

I really like Neville... =]


	8. Match

**Match**

_Words: 300_

_Pairing: Ron/Hermione_

* * *

Since she was little, Hermione Granger had been cursed with a powerful mind. And as every little girl, she was taught to expect a happy marriage with a beautiful, heroic boy, like her mother had.

However, Hermione Granger was a contradicting being, for with a powerful, brilliant mind and her infallible ability to understand human nature, no one ever was good enough for her.

As everyone in this world, Hermione longed for the one person who could be a match to her in every possible way. But being above average, she was yet to find it.

Of course, being above average, she knew very well why she couldn't fall in love. And that made her incredibly sad. She had dated boys, sure, after all, everyone needs intimate human contact, but no one had ever made her swoon and feel light-headed and the butterflies on her stomach and give up a day of studying for the sake of being with her loved one.

Hermione was afraid of being alone forever; afraid she was missing something blissfully important.

And that was when Hermione realised something, being the smart girl that she is…

She realised that her insides burned when Ron was saying something stupid; that her heart fluttered when he thanked her help in some stupidly easy assignment; that she got flushed at his accidental touches; that she loved when the ginger did or said something to her that he didn't do with anyone else; or when he hinted that he couldn't treat her the same he treated some other girls…

She realised how he made her feel special and normal. She was intelligent and strong, yes, but also worthy of his protection. Only thinking about it made her blush.

In short, her match, against all logic, was Ronald Weasley. Fancy that.

* * *

*sighs* Lucky Hermione... My first love stood me up, the bastard... =3


	9. Betrayal

**Betrayal**

_Words: 554_

_Pairing: Flashback into Severus/Sirius early relationship._

* * *

Sirius Black awaited his executioner. A Dementor.

He was alone in the room. From the window he could see the night sky, the stars and the moon. It would be the last time he would enjoy such a thing and now was the time he chose to enjoy it. Well, it was not like he had had many opportunities to do so, lately…

He would become an empty shell. Suddenly, he understood the importance of a untarnished soul. However the worst of it all wasn't the fact that he would cease to exist, it was the fact that he would do it as a traitor.

Like he had lived most of his life actually.

Everyone thought that he had betrayed his most important people...

His first love had been his best friend, James Potter. But soon wore off, especially after he had seen the way he gazed at Lily Evans. That was okay. The only thing he ever wanted was to have the people he loved happy and safe. How much fun had he had with the Marauders, with Lily… and with Snivellus.

Damn it all, Lily seemed to have a knack to steel his men from him.

He had been horrified when he first realised that he had developed quite a crush on Snape. But he had soon dealt with it. Of course, pulling a girl's pigtails was not the best way to her, er… his heart.

But then the Voldemort rose and Sirius didn't have time or mind to think about being in love or even find a partner. One by one, his cherished friends disappeared, whether dying or betraying him or even blaming him for a crime he hadn't commit. And Harry had been taken from him…

He would die without executing his revenge. And he would die alone.

The door opened. Sirius looked up to see the face full of hatred of Severus Snape.

"What are you doing here?" – he asked rather harshly. – "Came to gloat, is it?" – Snape didn't react though, just watched him warily.

"Why did you do it? Why did you betrayed her?" – he hissed.

"I didn't. It was Pettigrew, it was him all along." – Sirius voice carried a bit of urgency. If he could make Snape believe him…

"That won't stick, Black. I thought you cared for them…"

"I did, I do!" – Sirius breathing was frantic now. – "I would give my life before I could ever betray them, I swear."

"I'm sorry, Black, but I don't believe you. You swore to me that you would help me run away. I waited. I believed you, Black and you betrayed me. I can see you betraying your friends, too…"

He got up and walked to the door. When Sirius was beginning to think that he was lost forever, Snape turned around.

"I'm sorry. Your punishment is too harsh, but it is what it is. I should've known better than come to you for help"

And he left. Leaving Sirius behind. Maybe if Sirius hadn't been such a proud bastard, too scared to face James disapproval, he wouldn't be alone. He would have the greatest ally of them all… his love.

In the end, Harry had come for him. He found that a little flash hope was shining in the darkness… perhaps one day people would know the truth.

* * *

I'm having trouble letting go of Severus/Sirius... I bet there's more to come. =]


	10. Hate

**Hate**

_Words: 590_

_Pairing: Harry/Draco_

* * *

I hate Harry Potter, always have and always will.

It's not something many people would be proud of, but I'm fortunate because I hated him before he was the great vanquisher, so I'm allowed to hate him.

Honestly, who does he think he is? He walks around the castle with his cronies, as if he owned the place, with that fine-looking smile and cheerful laughing and showing off shining eyes, how he is taller than he was… he is still slender, oh, but he is much more graceful.

I bet he became this striking just to annoy me.

And the main reason why I hate him is because I owe him my life. And my freedom. And I'm sure that he could fabricate many more reasons as to why I owe him; too bad that I don't care what he thinks…

I should be grateful, but that's exactly the point. Everyone is grateful, and I'm not everyone… I'm better than them, he should know that. He shouldn't expect me to be thankful. I will pay my debt and that will be the end of it.

I would never fawn over him, or swoon, or wait for him to come in a white horse and save us all. Of course that being the bastard that he is, he had to do exactly that…

"Hey, Malfoy." – oh, it's his voice, I've learn to recognise it over the years. I turn. – "Hermione, Ron and I are going to Hogsmeade this weekend. Do you want to come?"

That managed to throw me off balance. I should have been expecting that, lately the only thing that he does is being _nice_ to me, and that's something I not used to. Much to my disdain, I find myself agreeing.

Honestly, lately my body keeps acting on his own, I found myself drawn to that annoying creature - well I always have anyway - and smiling in oddest moments, and being something other than the cool and composed lord I am. Why?

~*~

I am waiting for him at the entrance of the Three Broomsticks. He is three minutes late, maybe he's not coming at all. Maybe he was just making fun of me… That's more like it. But why do I fell… disappointed?

"Malfoy." – oh, and here is the prick.

"Where are your little doggies?"

"Don't be annoying." – he pauses. – "Ron and Hermione stood us up."

Well, that's odd. But then I notice something. Harry Potter is blushing and he looks up at me through half lidded eyes and he breaks the gaze right away. I frown. The last person I saw acting like this was Pansy Parkinson and she was in… love… with… Merlin's beard!!

Deciding to make sure of my newfound suspicion, I lean in. He doesn't step back. Oh, my. I keep approaching my target. He still doesn't move. I close the distance between those rosy lips and my own. And he _kisses_ _back_!

I break the kiss. He has blushed brighter. And he won't look at me.

Suddenly, I realise why I have not been myself lately. The reason is right in front of me; and like a mirror, I see myself in my oldest enemy. Well, I might as well do something to break this awkward silence. I take his hand.

"Let's go, Potter, I'm freezing." – and I guide him to the pub.

My mind is reeling, but soon enough, I forget everything that is not Harry.

I wonder what people will say when they realise that we are in love…

* * *

I am aware that it's the second time I describe the crush sympotms, but it's completely different from Hermione's scientific approach, don't you think? =]


	11. Forgiveness

**Forgiveness**

_Words: 497_

* * *

There isn't much that Lucius can do in his present predicament; a criminal has few things to hope in life and a Death Eater can certainly hope for even less.

Except for the rare visits Narcissa indulges him with, and the even rarer visits from his son, Lucius knows that even when he gets out of here, he will have nothing more to give to society.

There are no Dementors anymore. However, Lucius doesn't need them to remind him of the worst moments in his life…

The first moment was when the Dark Lord called Draco to serve him. Lucius is not stupid; he knew very well that he had made the wrong choice even before anyone else did. It was when he saw Potter fight Bellatrix at only fifteen… Not many have that kind of courage.

The second one was when the Dark Lord took his wand. What is a wizard without a wand? It's like a man with no purpose…

After that, it was when his sentence was read to him; fifteen years, a light sentence, mitigated by his wife's actions… and Potter's intervention, of course. The look on Draco's eyes, full of pity and accusation, was something he could never forget. And Narcissa's sadness, he swore to protect her, he shouldn't have made suffer like that.

Nevertheless, the last one was a bittersweet moment.

Draco had come to introduce him to his granddaughter. A beautiful blond, green-eyed girl called Margaret. She had been shy, but in the end he could tell that she had been fond of him. Potter had stayed at the entrance, never making eye-contact or even speaking a word, as if he wasn't part of this family. They left, and Potter never looked at him.

Lucius' precious son had found happiness and his beloved husband couldn't even look Lucius in the eye.

Lucius had always been a lucky, privileged man. That was until he acquiesced to tattoo his left arm in name of things that really didn't matter to him. In his search of power, he had made his choice of not being part of that happy family.

Narcissa walks in this moment for her monthly visit. She kisses him in the forehead and sits down gracefully.

"Your son-in-law gave birth again." – she told him proudly. – "It's a boy, they named him James Lucius Malfoy." – his grey eyes snapped at her. – "By Harry's insistence."

Lucius' luck hasn't deserted him after all. And he is grateful for that like only a man in privation can be. Harry's forgiveness means everything to him.

It is the difference between happiness and misery.

Even if the world is never going to accept him, as long as his family has, Lucius can be a happy man.

And the only thing he should be grateful for is that Harry fell for his son, because the Boy-Who-Lived - Lucius thinks as he watches Narcissa's bright smile - had managed to make the sun shine again for his family.

* * *

There was more than one word whi inspired this drabble, so it was hard to chose a name... =]


	12. Cry

**Cry**

_Words: 363_

_Pairing: Harry/Draco (pure and simple)._

* * *

Draco Malfoy supported himself on the sink. He felt sick, he felt like dying. He felt the sobs take over him, as panic filled his body.

He couldn't. He simply could not do it. How could he kill Albus Dumbledore? Not even the Dark Lord himself had managed that… And so he cried. He vaguely heard Myrtle comforting him, but it was useless.

_"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it. ... I can't. ... It won't work . . . and unless I do it soon ... he says he'll kill me. ..."_

His cry was getting out of control, he felt his mind slip away, his hands shaken his heart and breathing accelerate beyond normal standards and that's when he saw him. His already torn heart shredded into tinier pieces.

Harry Potter was there, watching his most shameful moment, with that look of pity in his eyes. Without thinking, trying to take those compassionate green eyes out of his head, even if it meant close them forever, he drew his wand and attacked. A duel ensued.

Finally, he decided to end this, he held his wand high and whispered the forbidden words, but he couldn't finish his curse, because Harry attacked as well.

"Avada Kedavra."

"Malfoy, nooo-"

~*~

"- ooooooooooooo!!" – Draco woke up with a startled yell. He looked around and realised that he was in his own room, in his own bed. He brought his knees up, hugged them and buried his face in them.

A warm body shifted by his side and a tan arm encircled his waist, bringing him closer. He let himself be lead until he was carefully resting his head on the other's chest, tanned arms holding him tightly. His body was shaking and tears were pouring from his eyes as he cried his heart out.

"Shhhh, it's okay, everything is okay, calm down…" – sweet nothings were whispered in his ear.

Harry's arms encircled his shoulders and he finally allowed himself to believe that yes, he was free from the nightmare that had been his life in the past. He was safe.

* * *

The words in _italics _are from 'HP and the Half Blood Prince' by JKR.


	13. Sky

You probably must be wondering why I haven't posted in so long... Well, I was out for the long weekend, since yesterday was a holiday in my country. I probably should have posted this before, but my excuse is that I was too excited about the weekend. I apologise.

This is for Saturday.

* * *

**Sky**

_Words: 341_

* * *

Three months had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts.

The grief was still overwhelming and everywhere reconstructions were being made, lives were being return to. There was still so much suspicion, people were still afraid to trust, afraid to leave home and family, afraid to live at all.

And Harry Potter was no different.

As he stood in the centre of the Great Hall, he could only see death and destruction, even though Hogwarts had been rebuilt and thus the Great Hall was as Harry always remembered it.

Except the ceiling, which was just a normal ceiling since Dumbledore had died.

The tables were missing, the room was empty and Harry stood in the middle while memories washed over him.

There was a time were he never dared to believe in his own future, but now, with his entire life in front of him, he didn't know what to do, as if something in his life was missing.

He took the Elder Wand. His wand.

Murmuring the incantation and moving his wand in circles, he started his spell. He had taken a lot of work to find the right charm and to perfect it. Hermione had been of the great help, but this was something he had to do alone. He felt the magic course trough him and closing his eyes, he finished it.

He opened his eyes again and looked up.

He saw the sky; stars, planets and clouds and the Milky Way, the constellations he had dreaded to learn and occasionally a shooting star would cross the night sky. In the horizon, the sun started to rise, casting a purplish glow in the sky above Harry's head.

For Harry, more than normalcy, spelling this ceiling meant a new beginning, meant to honour those who died in the service of the greater good – and he doesn't use the expression lightly, not anymore – and it meant some sort of closure for him.

Because hope is needed after so much suffering, he just wanted for people to see the sky again.

* * *

No pairings, really... although I first imagined Draco here.


	14. Crush

This one is for Sunday.

* * *

**Crush**

_Words: 407_

* * *

Minerva McGonagall strode through the hallway of the second floor, intending on getting to class as fast as possible. She would not be late, she never had and she never will.

Besides, it was _Transfiguration_ _class_… Professor Dumbledore would be so disappointed if she was late.

It was her fault anyway, that stupid girl she dared to call a friend had gotten late after an illicit Quidditch practice and Minerva was the one stupid enough to wait for her. She knocked on the classroom door and she was not surprised to see that everyone was already there and that Professor Dumbledore was already lecturing.

"Minerva?" – the professor asked. – "I don't think you have ever been remotely late. Is everything alright?"

Minerva blushed brighter than she ever had. Her friend Catherine snickered behind her. Minerva glared at Catherine before facing the red-headed professor sweetly. She fidgeted a bit, but then lifted her chin, proudly.

"I'm sorry, professor, I have no excuse." – she said mustering as much confidence as she could. Dumbledore smiled at the girl.

"Don't be silly, as if I could punish my most talented student." – Minerva bristled and her chest inflated with pride. Catherine pinched her, snickering again. – "Take a sit, girls."

Dumbledore proceeded with the lecture.

Minerva wasn't sure if she heard a thing or not, but she did know that lately she hadn't been able to take her notes during class and Catherine's were hardly anything near useful. Stupid friend, always embarrassing her in front of the Professor…

It was only her third year and during the time she attended Hogwarts she could never take any decent notes during her Transfiguration classes, so busy she was fawning over the Professor. Not that Catherine would have told her that and risk being hexed to next century.

Catherine ignored another glare and continued to mock the hearts and flowers Minerva had drawn in her book. It was something Catherine could not understand; the man was in his forties and had a broken nose for Merlin's sake.

Catherine would have had a blast if she had known that, decades later, Minerva would apply to be the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, a belated homage to her beloved Professor and would nearly have an heart attack when she realised who was the Headmaster…

And Catherine would love to see her old friend, in her seventies, bristle and blush like a school girl at the praise of that same man.

* * *

I believe its a given that all smart girls will have a crush on an older man.


	15. Confessions

For Monday...

**

* * *

**

**Confessions**

_Words: 519_

_Pairing: Severus/Sirius_

* * *

Is it possible to die from stress?

To this date, Severus Snape hadn't thought so. But now, watching his daft of a childhood nemesis Sirius Black walk around the kitchen of his godforsaken house, the old Slytherin was definitely reconsidering his dogmas.

In that moment, he hated him so bloody much and, yet, wanted to jump him so bloody much, he was nearly exploding.

How dared he live while Lily had to die? How dared he circumambulate with that annoying grace and beauty of his, while Severus had to sit quiet and still or else those simple minded members of the Order of the Phoenix would hex him to next week?

"Hey, Snivellus, what got your knickers in a twist?" – said the offensive being, while sitting in the seat right across his.

Damn Black, always perfectly composed, flirty and appealing. Severus would never be like that. He only loved once and that had been the limit of his life in society.

However, was stronger and far more intelligent that this brainless creature so he opted to just ignore the raven Gryffindor, presenting him with a disgusted look. They would never know how Severus was greater than any of them. How could any of them understand the depths of a man like Severus?

In the darkest corner of his mind, though, was something that he didn't dare to explore further. A deep hurt and sadness were hidden in this corner, but no one was allowed there except him and only sometimes.

In that moment, Remus walked in and slouched himself next to Black. Now, against Remus, Severus bore no grudge, mind you, if anything he owned him for exposing him as a werewolf. But that had been because Black had escaped, and he was angry, so Remus had paid by association.

The problem was the fact that Black had forgotten the one-sided argument he was having with Severus. Black should know better than turn his back on him.

And unintentionally he remembered.

He remembered how Black had betrayed him: in their fifth year, they had been dancing around each other for months and they had even gotten pretty far and Severus made the mistake of believing that Black would love him enough to face Potter.

His heart had shattered when he saw Potter cheering Sirius for shagging some stupid Hufflepuff…

But that horror was soon replaced by a much bigger one, when he realised that everyone was already gone, only Black and himself remained, and Black was much closer than socially accepted.

"I never did a thing with that Hufflepuff." – the Gryffindor said earnestly, as if he had read Severus mind.

Snape gulped, feeling the last bit of control he had snap.

His arms moved on his own accord and he felt himself pull Black into his arms and bring their mouths together for a bruising kiss. Soon, things got out of control and both men were panting on top of the table, while grinding their hips together.

Severus hissed, while the other was sucking on his neck.

They didn't talk, they didn't argue, they didn't fight, they didn't confess…

* * *

One more!! =] It counts as drabble if they have a sequence?


	16. Words

For Tuesday

* * *

**Words**

_Words: 350_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

"_You're dead, Potter."_

Words are a powerful thing.

With them you can make war or peace; you can befriend someone or you can pull yourself apart from them; you can give people hope or destroy it.

Words can inspire fear too. But if you let yourself be afraid of words, then you loose yourself, because words can not harm you, but they can take away your courage and that's when you loose who you are.

Words can also inspire greatness; they inspire the masses to do the right thing and that's something very precious.

"I love you."

Even so, the most unbelievable thing is that there are three little words that once said change everything you have believed so far.

These where Harry Potter thoughts while he looked at the fidgeting blond man in front of him. Suddenly, so many things made sense, so many fights lost their meaning and so much hope filled Harry.

"I understand that's not something you want and I shall not bother you anymore." – the fidgeting Draco Malfoy was saying. – "But I think I owned the truth to you and even myself."

'What? Of course I want this! Why shouldn't I, when we are in a relationship?… Maybe Draco hadn't seen it as a relationship, maybe all this time it was one-sided. But Draco loves me now… Or it's just an excuse to leave me. Well, if he wanted an excuse he could use lots of things and he didn't need to say… those words.'

Harry was sure that in the moment he said them he would be lost forever. Draco probably didn't mean it; it was just a crush or something. And Harry didn't want to risk something as precious as his heart, because then there was no turning back…

"I love you, too."

Apparently, words have mind of their own sometimes.

Nonetheless, seeing Draco's face lit up like a Christmas tree and how the boy pulled the brunette to his arms, Harry decided that he didn't care. He didn't need reassurance from Draco when his face said so much. Words can be overrated.

* * *

My Documant Manager didn't work! Why? Anyway, here's the drables for the week.


	17. Pride

For Wednesday

* * *

**Pride**

_Words: 466_

* * *

Tom Riddle Jr. was sitting on his desk at 'Borgin and Burkes', tapping the wood rhythmically, while his mind wandered.

It was time to leave the store and return to Hogwarts. There were still things to do, of course, before returning to the castle, and this assuming that Dumbledore would let him return. He chuckled humourlessly. Not likely. Pity.

~*~

"Good evening, Tom," said Dumbledore easily. "Won't you sit down?"

Good evening to you too, old man. I wonder if he is losing his touch. I mean, he ought to know that I really don't want to be here. Oh well, what brought me here is solved anyway. Maybe I should just leave.

He calls me Tom. I smirk. As if I would keep my father's name. Well, he got what he deserved and even was of some use to me. At last. I reason that he would be worthless to anything else other than to die a useful death. I laugh at my own joke.

_"I know what you are known as," said Dumbledore, smiling, pleasantly. "But to me, I'm afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. __It is one of the irritating things about old teachers. __I am afraid that they never quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings."_

I see.

Maybe someday I shall change that ridiculous vision you have of the world. I am sure that someday you will sorrowfully forget the boy you met so long ago. But that's fine; let him have this his way, for now.

He knows, I'm sure he knows what I've been doing. He doesn't seem frightened or impressed. I shouldn't have expected him to be. He never was. Pity.

He rants about love and friendship, even though I'm sure that he never once thought about that when he duelled Grindelwald. Hypocritical, self-righteous idiot.

He refuses to let me teach. I fought a smirk. I was prepared for that. Oh, I want to see him keep a teacher better than me. He won't. He says something that catches my attention. I freeze. He asks me be honest about what I want.

Does he know about the artefacts? He cannot. No one does. I've told no one. He's bluffing and some day that will be the end of him. Poor man, he lives in an illusion of goodness and niceness. I bet that he never felt the rush of the power calling to him.

Well, if he won't indulge me, that's fine. I don't need him to do so. I didn't even expect him to do so. At least about that, he's right.

It matters not.

I am Lord Voldemort. I am immortal. I have knowledge and power. And one day, Dumbledore will crumble by my hand. No one will be strong enough to stop me then. Pity…

* * *

Just wanted to write something from Voldemort's POV. He is crazy...


	18. Homework

For Thursday

* * *

**Homework**

_Words: 250_

_Pairing: Krum/Hermione_

* * *

Hermione sighed yet again.

She just wanted to study, is that such a weird thing to do in a library? No, of course not. Now, if she could just convince Viktor Krum of that, she would a happy girl. Every single time that she finally had some time free from Ronald and Harry and she decided to catch up with her homework, that stupid Quidditch player would just waltz in with the bubbling creatures that called themselves their fans.

Today wouldn't be any different, she reasoned as she prepared to leave and find some empty classroom to study. She was wrong.

Viktor sat himself in front of her, dismissing the stupid stalkers than were still fawning over him, and stared at her for a long time. He said nothing for a long time until the poor Gryffindor started to fidget. She hoped that she hadn't upset him, but she really had homework to do.

"Vat's you name?" – he asked, with a gentleness she didn't expect of a boy.

"Hermione Granger."

"Vell, Miss Grr-angerr, vould you came vit me to the Yule Ball?"

Hermione just stared and stared and stared. She really should be reading instead of speaking to the enemy. But Krum was waiting for her answer. She could easily say no. She suspected that if she said yes, he would insist in keep her company.

"Yes, I would be delighted."

As she let him escort her for a walk to the lake, Hermione decide that homework could always wait.

* * *

Nothing further to add...


	19. Erised

For Friday

* * *

**Erised**

_Words: 413_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

Harry opened the door that led to the final room of the obstacle maze created by the teachers to protect the Sorcerer's Stone. He wasn't sure why, after ten years, he was returning to this place.

Slowly he uncovered the Mirror of Erised, pulling the dirty sheet to the floor. He closed his eyes, wishing to elongate this moment.

He knew why he was here. He always had known that the day would come when he would let himself be lost in his dreams. Voldemort was dead. There was nothing more for him in this life. His duty had been fulfilled, leaving an empty shell behind, who could only dream.

All of his friends had either died or moved on and were now building careers and families. He was the only one that couldn't let go. And he didn't want to.

Heavy eyelids fluttered open to reveal green eyes. Harry faced the mirror and his eyes widened slightly… The mirror reflected himself and only himself.

What had Dumbledore said about the Mirror of the Erised? That the most happy man in the world could use it as an ordinary mirror.

Suddenly, two pale arms appeared behind him. Darting a quick glance back, he saw no one. His attention returned to the mirror where two blond children ran around the two people hugging; one of them was Harry, the other was yet faceless, although strangely familiar.

Harry sighed. He picked the sheet up and covered the image.

What had Dumbledore said? _It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live_. He was sure that Dumbledore understood better than anyone what loneliness feels like…

Absentmindedly, he left the maze. As soon as he exited the Third Floor Corridor, he felt someone approached him from behind.

"Professor Potter." – the last word was all but spat. Harry felt a pang of nostalgia wash over him. – "Headmistress McGonagall wishes to see us both." – Harry was sure it was about the row they had had that very same morning.

Harry turned around and lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders.

"After you, Professor Malfoy." – he said and gestured with his hand.

As they walked, Harry could help but to consider that his life had come to a full circle. He was still at Hogwarts and he was still being summoned to McGonagall's office because of his fights with Malfoy…

He could almost bet that Harry Potter would end hid life bickering and bantering with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Yeah, I bet they will...


	20. Game

For Saturday

* * *

**Game**

_Words: 259_

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange likes to play.

And it's exactly because of that, that we can find her playing with Neville Longbottom. There isn't many people worth of her attention, and this boy isn't certainly one of them, but Bellatrix likes to finish her games. She could not let the boy unmarked, now could she?

The Dark Lord looks at her with praise. Unable to help herself, Bella knows that she is blushing, but that's okay. She wants the Dark Lord to know that she would do anything for his approval.

The boy is writhing on the floor, but it's not enough. Why is it not enough? Alice and Frank would already be drooling by now…

But Neville is still fighting. Bella frowns, he is not playing by the rules.

She puts more power behind her Cruciatus, but before she can complete the spell a loud noise is heard and the Aurors burst into their hideout. She turns around to protect her Lord and sees him fighting with Harry Potter. The boy will die just like his godfather. She points her wand at him.

"Avada Keda-"

Bellatrix never finishes her curse, because the boy on the floor at her feet takes his dagger and buries it on her chest. Suddenly, it's cold. The Dark Lord screams. And Bella falls.

The game is over and she has lost.

She reasons that se should have believed when Lucius told her that Neville could have been the Dark Lord's murderer. The Dark Lord chose Harry Potter, yes… and she ended up choosing Neville Longbottom.

* * *

I reckon that all the purebloods are somewhat unbalanced... and it's perfectly understandable, I mean they keep marrying their cousins!...


	21. Treasure

For Sunday

* * *

**Treasure**

_Words: 416_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

Harry Potter didn't think that his life could get any worse.

Throughout his short four years at Hogwarts he had dealt with everything from lovesick stares, to hateful stares, to pity stares, to freak out stares. He had fought Voldemort two times already and had no wish to repeat it. He had been proclaimed Slytherin Heir. His death had been predicted numerous times. He had survived all of this, but he wasn't so sure he could survive his current predicament.

He had just completed his second task. He had retrieved his treasure. He had been a bit stupid to believe Dumbledore would let anyone get hurt, but that was not the problem.

Ron was patting him sympathetically on the shoulder as if he was about to die, which was probably true. Hermione was rubbing his arms with the towel to keep him warm, but he could she that she was trying to keep the smirk off her face. She had warned him after all. So, his friends were not the problem, too.

The problem was his treasure. The thing he had to retrieve from the depths of the lake was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Everyone had expected it to be Ron, or maybe Hermione, or even Ginny, but _no one_ had expected it to be the blond Slytherin.

And while Harry was dying of mortification, a very flushed Malfoy was looking at him warily.

Harry groaned in desperation and hid his face in his hands, ignoring his schoolmates dumbfounded stares, the teachers amused ones and Lucius apoplectic expression. He would dye from embarrassment soon. Finally, laughter erupted as expected.

He considered making a run for it, but he still had to hear his how many points he gained… not that that was important compared to the hex he was sure Draco was conjuring right now.

Suddenly, silence reigned.

He almost jumped when two bigger hands replaced Hermione's. He looked up to see the blond, sitting closer to him, straddling him with his long legs, conjure a dry towel and start to dry Harry's hair tenderly. His expression had come from wary to determinated.

"So, Potter, tell me." – Draco started, and his eyes were softer than Harry had ever seen and his voice was barely above a whisper. He looked up and their gazes met. Harry felt his heart miss a beat at the obvious display of emotion in the grey eyes. Maybe he wouldn't be hexed after all. – "What exactly about me would you miss?"

* * *

I really had fun writing this chapter...


	22. Hero

**Hero**

_Words: 272_

* * *

Severus Snape knew that when he entered the Great Hall for the welcoming feast, all hell would break loose. He dreaded it, but he was a brave man, so he lifted his chin, put his scowl in place and opened the door behind the teachers' table.

He had expected screams of bloody murder, like last year, but he hadn't expected to be met with this deathly silence. Never one to revel something as human as emotion, he ignored his students and took his place at the Headmaster chair.

But even Severus Snape had his eyes widening when his obnoxious students suddenly erupted in applause and Severus received a standing ovation.

He recovered fast and ignored his fellow teachers to look at the Gryffindor table. His suspicions where confirmed when he saw Harry Potter beaming happily at his classmates, with that determined and proud look. Daring a glance at his co-workers, he saw Minerva McGonagall smiling proudly at him and that damn Lupin smirking challenging at him. Lupin pointed Harry with his head and his smirk deepened. Severus glared at him with all he had… then he shifted his glare to Potter, and was received with the same cheeky attitude that Remus had showed. Damn Gryffindors.

"Harry Potter provided Pensieve prove that you were ours all along." – Minerva told him, and the pride in her voice almost made him sick. – "He told us everything. He even gave a public interview… You were so brave Severus."

He glared, but she just beamed at him. Damn Gryffindors!

If this continued, sooner or later people were going to think he was actually a _good man_… Ugh!

* * *

This is not actually part of the Severus/Sirius series, but I couldn't help myself... x3


	23. Chess

For Tuesday

* * *

**Chess**

_Words: 459_

_Pairing: Snape/Lupin_

* * *

Severus Snape is not sure how to react. He isn't even sure how this has happened. It's a bit disturbing that he is not disturbed at all. Still, what to do? How to react? And when he wakes up, how to greet him?

Snape is going to make a fool of himself, he just knows it. He can only be thankful that he was impossibly drunk last night, or he would have freaked out much sooner.

The worst part? He can't move. Because there is an arm wrapped around his middle. And that arm belongs to Remus Lupin.

Snape's head hurts, he needs to take a potion to calm his pulsing head; he desperately needs a shower, because he can feel the evidence of their _activities_ dry on his chest; and he urgently needs to get away, before the Gryffindor wakes up and forces them both on the most awkward moment ever.

He vaguely remembers Lupin coming to his office last night, with a chess set and two bottles of firewhisky, suggesting that they spent the evening together. And spend it together they had. After all, why couldn't they be friends? They were the same age, and, after the war, such things as petty boyhood rivalries mattered very little.

Snape doesn't know who started it, but the fact is they ended up where they are now. He knows he wasn't forced into anything, because he is not sore and you can't force someone to top.

Lupin stirs and snuggles closer to his back, absentmindedly caressing his flat stomach. Unintentionally Snape blushes.

God heavens, now, after all the things he did, is when he blushes. How long hasn't he fell this good, relaxed and cared for? What does Lupin see in him? More importantly, was it just a one-off?

"Hummmm, good morning," the man behind Snape mumbles and presses a kiss to his shoulder. Snape tenses and Lupin sighs. He sits up and says "So, this is when you throw me out?" Snape is offended.

"I will not do such thing!" Lupin is confused.

"You won't?" Snape blushes. Lupin smirks.

"I see, " he says and lays down again. He comes closer, obviously amused that Snape is watching him warily and appears to be resisting the urge to scoop away. "So, is this okay?"

"What is? Please do speak clearly or don't speak at all." Lupin chuckles.

"This? Us? Is it okay?" he asks, putting his arms around Severus once again, and laying his head on the other man's shoulder. "You smell good." Snape blushes again.

"Refrain yourself from making useless commentaries and allow me to sleep some more. It is weekend and I wish to indulge myself in some well-deserved idleness," and whilst he said all of this, he put his arms around the other's waist and tighten their embrace.

* * *

Mr. Moony sends his greatest apologies to Mr. Padfoot for stealing his boyfriend . . .

. . . and wishes to excuse himself by saying that he was forced into it by the evil author.


	24. Cake

For Wednesday

* * *

**Cake**

_Words: 568_

_Pairing: Charlie/Harry_

* * *

Molly Weasley loved to have her house full of people. She loved to hear the laughter, the bickering, the music echoing through the usual silence. It made her so happy to have her whole family close to her . . . you can never know what might happen.

Of course, that she would always be painfully aware that there was one voice missing and its twin had lost all the cheerfulness.

Those were not the thoughts to be having in such a happy occasion. Molly's younger son was going to be married to a woman that she had grown to love as her own. Hermione Granger.

Molly was thrilled to see that all of her children were settling down and had found their soul mates. She loved to watch them glow with love for their families. And of course, she loved to spoil her numerous grandchildren. She chuckled when she saw Arthur pass by her, chasing the young Louis, Billy's son.

Well . . . actually, there were two of them that were determinate to worry her to death.

As much as she tried, Charlie Weasley refused to introduce his girlfriend to the family. He had one, she knew it, because he had been living with her for three years now, and had returned to Britain for her . . . Molly knew he was head over heels with her, so it bothered her that he refused to introduce the girl.

Harry Potter simply refused to talk about his love life. Molly had been disappointed that he didn't love Ginny, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't accept anyone he chose.

Pushing these thoughts away, she motioned to the kitchen to collect the tray with the Bride's Cake she had made for the party. But before she could enter the room, she heard muffled noise coming from the pantry on her left.

Frowning in confusion, Molly opened the door to see who was in there. . . Her eyes widened and her mouth stood agape when, with a thundering noise, all her cleaning supplies fell from the pantry . . . on top of her semi-naked son and Harry Potter!

As if it wasn't enough that a mother had caught, not one, but two children, being . . . _intimate_ . . . on her kitchen pantry, the noise had to attract the rest of the family, who were getting ready for the wedding. Even Hermione came down with her hair half-done and a flushed Ginny running after her.

All of them stood there, frozen to shock, watching Charlie Weasley taking his hands of Harry's pants, and struggling to put them both decent and upright, while a very flushed Harry hid his face on his chest.

Ron started to laugh. And then Bill. And then George. And then the rest of the family burst out laughing, while the two men composed themselves. Well, except Molly, who was still staring in shock.

"Charlie dear, what about your girlfriend?" she managed to choke out.

Harry blushed bright red and the Weasleys laughed again, all of them drawing the right conclusion of what they were seeing.

And then Molly understood too. Now that she thought about it, Charlie never said he had a female lover.

"Okay, then I will change the seats so that you can seat with your date."

And with that, went get the cake, humming happily.

Now, all of her children had settled down.

* * *

And once again the poor _uke_ has to apologise for being put into odd relationship with another man, betraying his one true love.

_Harry:_ It was her, Draco! She made me do it!


	25. Love

For Thursday

* * *

**Love**

_Words: 343_

_Pairing: Gellert Grindelwald/Albus Dumbledore_

* * *

Gellert Grindelwald always knew this day would come.

He had expected it and he welcomed it. He did not feared death anymore. He had learned that there are far worse things that death. It took him decades of imprisonment to come to such conclusion.

Did he regret the things he did? Yes . . . perhaps his younger self had been much too ambitious and hypocritical. He still thought that Muggles were a very well bred species of mammals. However, one doesn't go around killing helpless animals for their own good . . . and he had killed so many people . . .

Gellert could not pinpoint where his Quest for the Hallows, his faith in the Wizarding supremacy had degenerated to pure power search.

Death was something that he had wanted to conquer; eternal power, how can one deny that? How could have Albus denied that?

He understood that now. Why Albus had refused his friendship. Albus had always been smarter than him . . .

Love.

It was as simple as that. His love for life, for his family, for his students, for the knowledge itself made him refuse Gellert's ambitions. Their ambitions.

Now Albus was gone and finally Gellert realised why it had been so easy for Albus to refuse immortality and power.

Voldemort was demanding the Elder Wand in exchange for his freedom. Ha! Gellert would not soil Albus' memory. He would not let this man destroy the world Albus had fought for. For Albus, he would refuse Voldemort's allure.

Albus would have wanted him to protect the Hallows for Harry Potter.

Gellert understood now that he had never truly been the Master of the Hallows; only one who accepts the certainty of Death and the miracle of Life can do so.

_"Kill me, then. Voldemort, I welcome death! But my death will not bring you what you seek… There is so much you do not understand . . ."_

He would welcome Death, because he knew that Albus would be waiting for him on the other side.

* * *

The text in _italics_ is the original text from JKR in 'HP and the Deathly Hallows'.


	26. Eyes

For Friday

* * *

**Eyes**

_Words: 334_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

Those eyes. The face was swollen and the hair had a different colour, but the eyes didn't lie.

Draco didn't want to believe it. How could Harry Potter let himself be caught by the Snatchers? He would have rejected the idea that this hideous creature was Potter if not for the fact that he was with Granger and Weasley and . . . Those eyes. . .

Narcissa asked him to identify them. He couldn't. If the Dark Lord came, there would be no hope left for anyone. Harry needed to live. He stalled, but they were insisting. Then Aunt Bella walked in. If she knew that he had purposefully lied. . .

They were led to the dungeons and Draco was thinking fast, while he led the unconscious Snatchers to the yard. How could he help them? How could he free them? His mind was reeling. If he did something, his Aunt would know and the Dark Lord would too. His mother and father would pay by association. He could not risk it...

He entered the house to see Granger screaming in agony.

If nothing else that made his decision for him. That night, he would set the prisoners free. And he would pay the price, but Harry he would be _safe_ and he would save them all.

~* ~

Harry was facing him, watching him as he hold the wands, and expecting him to hurt the Gryffindors. How could he hurt Harry?

He just stared, until Harry snatched the wands and left, giving him an odd look. He watched them go, still transfixed at the sight of his school nemesis. There was so much hardness in his stare and Draco felt his heart break for him.

Draco really hoped that there would come the day when he would stare at those eyes and feel the warmth of friendship in them. He hoped Harry would accept his outstretched hand and talk idly about nothings . . .

He knew it was wishful thinking.


	27. Mistake

**Mistake**

_Words: 245_

_Pairing: Snape/Harry_

* * *

Severus Snape never expected to live through war. As a dying man, he experienced an atypical wish, he wished to be remembered. And that's what prompted his inconsiderate action of giving to none other than Harry Potter his memories.

The boy had rescued him after Nagini bit him. Severus had spent three months in a deep coma until he finally opened his eyes to the world again… and woke up to his face printed on the _The Quibbler_ and his life's story on display for everyone to see. He had experienced a hate like never before. But Potter hadn't stop there, oh no. The foolish Gryffindor had to go out of his way to show him how deeply thankful he was and granted him Merlin Order, First Class.

While everyone applauded him and gave him their support, Severus' hate had grown bigger and more revengeful. If he had died, there wouldn't be a need to worry.

However, he hadn't. He had lived and he believed in taking advantage on opportunities and so he would use this second chance to make Harry Potter regret the day he was born.

He had returned to Hogwarts to teach the usual bunch of morons that showed up every year. And thus he found himself sitting on his desk in his usual Potions classroom, waiting for his seven-years to come in. As always his first class of the year was with Gryffindors and Slytherins. Which meant Harry Potter. He smirked.

* * *

This is a pairing I never expected to use. I was converted, though.


	28. Persistence

For Sunday

* * *

**Persistence**

_Words: 428_

_Pairing: James/Lily_

* * *

"This is it," said the raven teen, while licking his dry lips and adjusting the glasses on his nose. "Today is the day she'll go out with me."

Next to him, two teens just rolled their eyes; the third didn't even get his nose out of the colossal book he was reading. One of the first teens, the raven-haired one, slumped his arm around the other's shoulder.

"Oh, really, Prongs? Today is the day you manage to convince Evans to go out with you?" The boy named Prongs nodded enthusiastically. The blond teen that had rolled his eyes earlier gigged helplessly. Prongs smacked him in the head.

"Don't jinx it, Wormtail!"

"Like you need his help to jinx it," the raven-teen-still-unnamed teased.

"Padfoot!"

"Guys, lower your voices, please," asked the brunet teen who was reading the book.

"Do you know what Prongs tells these days, Moony?" Seeing no point in avoiding his friends' conversation anymore – especially because Padfoot was just that insistent – Moony shifted his attention to them. "He says today is the day he gets Evans." Padfoot continued. "Do you remember what happen the last times he said that?"

"Yes."

"No you don't!" Padfoot corrected eagerly. "Let me remind all of you."

~*~

"_Hey, Evans, are we going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"_

"_No, Potter, _I _am and _you_ are, if you want, but I can assure you that _we – we! – _are _not_ going."_

~*~

"_Hey, Evans, want to dance?"_

"_Sure."_ "And when Prongs face was lighting up, Evans says," _"With whom?"_

~*~

Wormtail giggled some more, but Moony found Padfoot's narration much less amusing.

"Sirius, really, don't be mean," chastised Moony. Prongs had his head bent down and appeared to be depressing over disastrous existence. Then, the boy lifted his head and glared at Padfoot.

"On day, she will be the mother of my children . . ." he said determinate. This time, even Moony laughed at his friend's dramatics.

"Sure she will, Prongs, sure she will."

~*~ One Year Later~*~

"Hey, Evans, wanna go out with me on Valentine's Day?" The read-headed girl sighed exasperatedly.

"Fine, Potter!" For five minutes, Prongs said nothing, just stared at the girl.

"Did you just−"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "But, after this, you won't bother me anymore."

Prongs never heard that last sentence, because he was already running merrily to his friends.

He wanted to tell them that his future wife and mother-of-his-children had just agreed to go out with him. Padfoot would pout and sulk and Moony would say that his persistence had paid off, after all . . .

* * *

Regardless to say, the Marauders had to swallow their own words.


	29. Realisation

For Monday

* * *

**Realisation**

_Words: 220_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

It took a while for Severus Snape to realise it.

For weeks he had been wondering and wondering until his mind finally got wrapped around it. Luckily, this was a finding he wouldn't have to share with anyone else – it would be too embarrassing to admit that, while he bragged about his absolutely brilliant mind, it had taken him six weeks and three days to come to the wonderful conclusion that the way to humiliate Harry Potter was . . . sex.

Abusive words and physical violence the boy could take; he could handle emotional vulnerability – well, with every emotion except _love_. Harry Potter feared romantic love, he ran from romantic love, because with love comes desire and Harry Potter fears desire, he fears his deepest fantasies . . .

Severus would use it to break the boy and he would love every minute of it – it was not curiosity; of course not.

And then – as a sign from above – he saw it. The way the boy shivered when Severus talked, the way the boy blushed when Severus was close and the way his eyes darted when Severus stared at him.

Yes, the way to break Harry Potter was to have him completely vulnerable and exposed, mentally and physically – and preferably underneath Severus, but just for practical reasons, of course.

* * *

Do you know how fanfics usually portrait Snape as having this low, deep, sexy voice?

Well, I think it was only after Alan Rickman was introduced as Snape that people thought about it . . . Well, yeah, just a thought. (^.^)


	30. Friends

For Tuesday

* * *

**Werewolf**

_Words: 418_

* * *

"W-What? That's ridiculous!"

"Really, Remus?" James said, quietly. "Let's see what arguments do we have, shall we?" Remus swallowed thickly and his eyes flit from James to Sirius in fear. They could not know – they could not! "Sirius, would you?"

"Well, James, thing is I don't think it matters," Sirius held. "We know we're right. And Remus does too."

The two of them looked at the twelve-year-old brunet cornered into a wall, whose eyes were darting around looking for an escape; Remus was leaning against the wall, trying to put as much distance as he could between him and his housemates. He was taking deep breaths in an unsuccessful attempt to calm himself.

Sirius put his hand on Remus shoulder. The later jumped and recoiled, trying to protect his body from the attack he was sure it would come. He didn't expect to be drawn against a slightly broader frame, while other put his arms around them both. The embrace lasted only an awkward moment and then Sirius and James let go of him.

"Well, werewolf or not," James said, patting the brunet in the shoulder. "You are going to lend us homework until the end of your life."

"You know, James, I don't expect to need homework until the end of my life and I assume Remus will live as many years as me," Sirius intervened, amused at his friend poor attempt to reassure the other. James blushed, embarrassed.

"Remus wouldn't have cared, he knows what I mean," James remarked, sulking. "You are the one who's picky."

"I'm not picky!" Sirius exclaimed, outraged.

"Yes, you are," James retorted, triumphantly. He smirked. "And now Remus and I are going to live you standing here alone."

And with that, James left Sirius standing in the hallway of the third floor, while he dragged Remus away. Sirius ran after them, yelling at James and Remus about "useless friends" and "canine turncoats" and how he was going to "tell McGonagall which one of us cheated on the last assignment".

Remus just laughed. And when Sirius was close enough, he intertwined their arms and held onto James waist.

That was how they entered the Great Hall for dinner.

Remus didn't care it was not cool to hold to your friends like that, or that he had tears of relief in his eyes, or that Dumbledore was watching them with a twinkle in his eyes, or that the full moon was only one week away. He had friends now, who cared about the rest?


	31. Life

**Life**

_Words: 300_

_Pairing: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald_

* * *

"What have you done?!" cried Aberforth. "She's dead – she's dead!"

Albus just sat there, staring at her lifeless body, while Aberforth cried his hear out, clinging to Ariana's body, trying to shake it back to life. Albus clutched his wand in his right hand, ignoring the minor pain on his sprained left wrist and the much bigger one spreading through his chest.

He couldn't look at Gellert – not now, not ever again.

Someone tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder; he could see Aberforth, so it was not him; there was no one else in the house, so there was only one person who could be trying to comfort him. He shrugged it off.

Anger, sorrow, guilt washed over him and that hand burnt.

He heard hurried steps and someone banged against the tea table; he could still see Aberforth, so it was not him. More noises of _someone_ crashing into the furniture and still Albus never looked up.

Aberforth was fire-calling St. Mungo's, but Albus didn't move. Ariana's lifeless eyes were staring right at him, blaming him, cursing him. The front door opened. It only closed a long time later.

Albus never looked up and he never looked back.

He never saw the teary dull blue eyes which looked at him with so much guilt in them. Or the pitiful look they sent to Ariana's figure. He never acknowledged the three whispered little words . . .

"_I love you."_

. . . nor did he hear the promise of revenge for her misery – Gellert would show the Muggles what the wizards are made off and then maybe Albus would forgive him.

Albus never looked back until the day he had Gellert's life in his hands . . . Then he remembered and Gellert had to live.

* * *

I can't let go of them, it's ridiculous. =]


	32. Audacity

For Thursday

* * *

**Audacity**

_Words: 374_

_Pairing: Severus Snape/Remus Lupin_

* * *

Severus Snape was stricken before he could even dodge the attack.

He had stood there, transfixed as he saw his _fiend_ approach him with a hideous smile on his face, eyes shining as if a mischief had been well managed. Severus knew his eyes were widening, that all his witless companions' eyes were bored into his shocked and even paler face, but he couldn't move; he couldn't believe that the other man would have the mindless audacity to believe himself capable of surviving such a feat.

However, as we all know, Gryffindors are prone in defying furious beasts like Severus Snape. Remus Lupin is a fine example of Gryffindor courage.

Remus approached the raven man, fighting a smirk as he saw panic wash over the other's stance.

Severus reasoned that, since the end of the War, he must have gone soft or else his poor excuse of an attacker would never had come so close – at least that's what he told himself. Remus would say that Severus had trouble reacting when shocked beyond words and if there is a thing that could shock him was stray affections; he was pretty confident that he would survive what he was about to do;

The werewolf came closer . . . and closer . . . and closer . . . until his lips finally connected with Severus hollow cheek and he planted a resounding kiss on his lover's face.

All hell broke loose, Severus knew from the shrieking noise he had learned to recognize as Gryffindor laughter. Looking around to the culprits of his humiliation and assessing adequate punishments, he saw Remus' smug face, Harry Potter laughing hard enough to draw tears from his eyes, Albus twinkling eyes and sympathetic expression and the blasted Order's members' shocked faces.

Severus groaned aloud and decided to focus his attention on only one foe and glared with all his might at Remus – who proceeded to ignore him and hold his hand in front of everyone.

That moment Severus decided that he would never be blackmailed into a Halloween party ever again . . . and that Remus Lupin would pay dearly. If the werewolf was so desperate for his lover's affections, Severus would see to it – repeatedly and passionatedly.

* * *

Yes, well, Mr. Moony is absolutely not enojoying himself, so Mr. Padfoot does _not_ need to be that jealous!


	33. Innocent

For Friday

* * *

**Innocent**

_Words: 306_

* * *

She was not a nice woman. She was a cold, arrogant, vain and deeply self-absorbed woman. She never thought about what was asked of her or questioned her family's dogmas. She accepted them and lived up to them.

She had never cared about her husband's actions. She had been able to live a comfortable and luscious life thanks to him, why should she care about how he managed it? She had never cared about Wizarding wars, sadistic murderers, manipulative old headmasters or heroic teenagers.

She couldn't have cared less about justice, human rights or the order of the world.

She had been more than happy to love and take care of her family.

Then, those same unquestioned family ideals had brought misery upon her, her husband and son. She had to find the strength to provide love and courage to them both, when she wanted nothing more than to flee with them for safety.

She had to fight for principles that she didn't believe anymore.

_"You, examine him. Tell me whether he is dead." _

Her son was missing, her husband too scared to be the man she had married. She decided that it was time for her to take the matters into her own hands.

_"He is dead!" _

For her, it hadn't matter who had won or who had died. She had had her son and husband in her arms.

The rest was up to the world to care about. Maybe the Heroic-Teenager and his minions would save them all. She hoped they did and she felt useless for counting on a _child_ to rescue her and her family.

And now she found herself counting on that child again . . .

"After all the evidence presented to us, how do we pled the defendant, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy?

"Not guilty."

Yes, but not exactly innocent either.

* * *

The words in _italics_ belong to the original text by JKR from 'HP and the Deathly Hallows'.


	34. Odd

For Sunday

* * *

**Odd**

_Words: 450_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

Like so many mornings before this one, Severus Snape sits at the High table in the Great Hall, lost in his own thoughts, unaware how his gaze his locked on one raven teen from the Gryffindor House.

Minerva McGonagall is very well acquainted with the fact and is resisting the urge to remind Severus that molesting students is rewarded with one-way trips to unemployment – but this particular student is already a legal adult, so she can't pry on that excuse – and that he is being very little discreet about the whole ordeal – but that would only earn her a duel with the very capable duelist that it is Severus Snape.

So, Minerva keeps her mouth shut . . . the fact that she is enjoying how Severus' stoic mask is falling apart has nothing to do with the fact – not at all!

Well, Severus state of mind is quite understandable, because he finds himself in a odd situation.

You see, it has been two months since the Head of Slytherin initiated his devilish plan to _humiliate_ and _break_ Harry Potter – which is to say that he has been sleeping with the teen for two months now, but Snape refuses to think of the whole situation in _those_ terms – and by now, Severus should be depriving the boy of his dignity and making him fell less than a simple object for Severus – or anyone – to use. The boy had trouble trusting people to begin with, and because of that it would be so easy to deprive him of his humanity . . . However – and here lies the problem – Severus hadn't.

Even when his mind scream for him to take what he wanted and get his revenge, his body did things . . . like allow the Potter's spawn to share his bed, his quarters and listen to the brat when he spoke about his life, his friends, fears and hopes and―

Why the _bloody hell_ is he thinking about this?!

Why in the name of all the Founders is he worried about what the boy will feel or what the boy has already told him?! It does _not_ matter . . .

Even if Harry Potter is nothing like is father, even if Harry Potter is amazingly capable of keeping Severus satisfied intellectually and physically – and that is something that not a lot of people can brag about – why is Severus forgetting the atrocious blow the boy had dealt to his pride and dignity?

He couldn't for the life of him understand why would he want to keep Harry for as long as he could – because that is precisely why he would not carry Potter's punishment further.

Odd, very odd.

* * *

I'm on a Severus/_Whomever_ spree . . .


	35. Core

For Sunday

* * *

**Core**

_Words: 219_

* * *

The raven boy left the store, bouncing happily behind the man named Rubeus Hagrid. He was clutching a box wrapped in brown paper to his chest while the rest of his acquisitions were carefully guarded in charmed bags on the arms of the half-giant.

Mr. Ollivander watched him go and disappear into the crowd before moving to the back of the store to clean up the boxes he had used earlier. His mind was reeling . . .

He had learned wandlore long time ago but the art never ceased to amaze him. Of all the wands he had ever sold, there were a considerate amount of twin cores, so it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Mr. Ollivander couldn't help but to think that the universe was trying to tell him something.

He chuckled.

So the Saviour and the Dark Lord were made of the same _core_, yes? That could mean something really good or something really bad . . . He wondered if the boy would make the right choices or loose himself along the way. It was amazingly easy for one to forget one's true nature.

Harry Potter soon would have to choose his own _built_; his magic appeared to be _holly_, but only the future would tell the boy's true nature . . .

* * *

I'm not sure this is clearly written . . .


	36. Choice

For Monday

* * *

**Choice**

_Words: 307_

_Pairing: Voldemort/Harry_

* * *

Harry Potter looked himself in the mirror and somehow he didn't recognise himself.

The room was dark and silent; he had woken up from a dream he hadn't had in the last seven years; he was no long a boy of seventeen. He had made his own choices and those led them to this place. To a dark room, with wandless men and women enslaved to serve him, with a psychotic killer sharing his bed, with no friends and no sunlight – literal _and_ metaphoric . . .

His lover – can you call yourself a lover if you are not loved? - would soon be up and then there would be things to do and problems to solve and people to punish and criminals to kill.

Harry remembered his dream – only that it was not a dream, but a memory.

Long ago, he had been happy. He had had hope. He could progress, he could talk, he could joke and fight and laugh and . . . he could die. He missed the certainty of Death, that shadow who offered you comfort and peace in the end of the road.

That had been long ago.

Harry had made is choice. He had been alone, he had lost everything, he was lost and scared and he was offered a choice. He had chosen to live and his life had been taken as the price. Ironic, isn't it?

Lord Voldemort rose and immediately all the slaves moved to help their lord. One of them was blond and had been beautiful once, but he didn't remember and Harry was starting to forget.

Voldemort had taken his everything. His family, his friends, his companions, his hope and memories and dreams and emotions. And in the end, he had not taken Harry's life way, but – much, much worse – he had taken his death.

* * *

Ugh! I can believe I wrote this! Well, at least is _non-con_, right?


	37. Really

For Tuesday

* * *

**Really**

_Words:232_

_Pairing: Harry/Draco_

* * *

I try not to make any noise as I enter the house.

I should have been home hours ago, it's Friday night and the kids are at the Hermione and Ron's house and because of that it's the one of the few nights we can fully enjoy ourselves – you know, as _loud_ as we want – but, of course, with my luck I had a late meeting at the Auror Office.

I'm so dead.

Slowly I open the door. The hallway is dark; I can't hear anything so maybe I will make it; I take off my shoes and put them in the closet, then my coat.

I'm not stupid and I know him to well. I'm sure he is waiting for me in our bedroom just so he can have the pleasure of denying me tonight.

He is _that_ evil. But really, _really_ pretty. And really, _really_ sweet.

I turn to the kitchen to grab something to eat since I'm know he already put the dinner in the fridge and I don't want to have to reheat it because I'm sure he will feel the spell. Maybe if I take long enough he will fall asleep – he is really, _really_ cute when he is asleep, like a blond angel and―

"Harry Potter!"

'_Fuck!'_ I turn around and try to smile sheepishly, he is so furious. Sometimes, he can be really, _really_ scary.

* * *

Yay! They are back.

_Harry:_ I missed you so much, sugarplum, cutest bonbon in the world-

_Draco_: I know (*rubs noses together*) I miss you too, Harry bear, sweetest muffin in the whole world-

_Me_: Okay! That's enough.


	38. Quiet

For Wednesday

* * *

**Quiet**

_Words: 275_

_Pairing: You have to guess . . ._

* * *

It's quiet. So very quiet.

And she is mad.

I can't say I blame her, I hurt her and she didn't deserve it. She was a perfect wife, mother and lover; she loved me and she did everything or me. She gave up her dreams and career for our family and she never complained.

It's all so silent. There is no noise, no yelling, no complaints, no childish pranks, no tattle-tale, no unanswerable questions, no sleep deprivation, no lectures.

They are all gone . . . she took them.

I betrayed her. I couldn't help. Somewhere along the line she stopped being what I needed and I what I needed just fell into my lap – literally. I never searched for it but when it showed I knew what it was and I longed for it. Passionate love.

I miss my family, but I can't bring myself to be sorry for what I did. Even though I lost everything, I'm so very glad that I found him.

They are at the Burrow, I know. I could make her forgive me so easily, she loves me so much. But I won't. She deserves more and better and I won't allow myself to pretend to be happy when I'm not. I respect her and I love her – just not the way she wants.

I should apologise for making them suffer. Perhaps someday they'll forgive me.

Oh, well, maybe I'll stay here for a little while; I don't feel like facing the world now. _He_'s stopping by later. I wonder if everything is alright in his house . . . I don't think we deserve the happiness we got.

* * *

So, have you got your suspicions? =]


	39. Noise

**Noise**

_Words: 331_

_Pairing: It's the same that the last one . . ._

* * *

There is so much noise.

I can't believe I let these perfect strangers in the privacy of my home!

But it's the least I can do for her humiliation. Oh, she was colourful in her accusations; I don't think I had ever heard her speak so many sentences to me . . . She is absolutely furious but honestly, I haven't touched her in years and she never complained; she can't possibly be _that_ surprised.

Furthermore, her main problem is the fact that I have embarrassed her. And for that I'm deeply sorry. She has been discreet and sophisticated in her affairs; I should have granted her the same grace.

But I lost my mind . . . I should have never allowed myself to get this attached, but I think that for the first time in nearly twenty-years I've been happy. Really happy.

I was selfish and _he_ indulged me and accidentally we got found out.

I'm okay with that.

She means nothing to me and I can't bring myself to care about what other people think. She won't take Scorpius away, because she doesn't care about him – I do. My greatest regret is that I didn't consider his feelings. I know he will forgive eventually, we have a close relationship.

I wonder if _he_ is okay. _She_ will take his children away and they will blame him – stupid Gryffindor loyalty! Well, except Albus. Albus will probably forgive him right away and see things for what they are; I swear that boy is Slytherin through and through.

But _he_ will be devastated for losing his family; that was the one thing he always wanted. I took that from him. I hope he forgives me.

Finally, these 'trolls' have packed everything she owns. I don't have to worry about her anymore.

It's late. I promised to meet him tonight. I hope that now he allows himself to be happy . . . I will take care of him . . .

* * *

Have you guessed? There were a lot of clues . . .


	40. Regret

**Regret**

(Or the lack thereof)

_Words: 519_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

The wards start singing when Draco Malfoy crosses he threshold.

Smiling, he finds his love in the drawing room of the first floor. Harry Potter looks depressed and it's obvious he has been crying. Draco loses his smile and swallows thickly. He his praying to every and any deity that Harry doesn't break up with him.

Harry looks up and his face softens and his eyes shine and he blushes and Draco is flooded by such a tenderness for this man that he dashes forward and scoops the other into his arms – Harry his too big and to heavy to fit in his lap.

"She left and took the children," Harry says and his voice quivers. Draco tightens his hold.

"Are you regretting what we did?" Draco fears the answer but he has to ask. Harry suddenly looks very sad. Draco's heart nearly stops.

"No," Harry answers simply. "I can't regret it and that's the problem. I've lost my family and I don't care as long as I have you."

Draco knows that's not what he means. Harry wants his children very much, he just can't bring himself to destroy his only chance to love because their mother cannot distinguish father from children.

Draco has seen Harry with his three children. He knows that they won't be able to stay away from their father for long and the Weasellette won't have the heart to make them suffer. She _is_ a Gryffindor, after all.

"How did things go in your house?" Harry asks after a while.

"Astoria left." It is as simple as that and Draco won't make more of it because he truly doesn't care about her.

However, the question brought something up that Draco has been dying to ask ever since they confess their love for each other. He wants Harry to come live with him and marry him. He wants it very much, but he doesn't know if Harry is ready for that . . .

"What now?" It is Harry who asks, gently caressing Draco's neck with the tip of his fingers. Yes, that's a good question. Draco knows what he wants, but he fears Harry's reaction.

"What do you want to happen now?" He decides to ask Harry first. Harry's stance changes from relaxed to wary. The Gryffindor is such an open book.

"We are free to have a serious relationship, Draco," says Harry. "Or do you want to keep it as it has been until now?" Harry hates to think that after all of this Draco wants nothing more.

Draco smiles when he sees Harry's concerns.

"I don't want to keep it as it has been, but I don't know if you are ready for what I want." Draco has come to the conclusion that when dealing with Harry there is only one unforgivable thing: lying. So he always tells the truth no matter what the truth is.

"I am," Harry replies and he means it. Sometimes, Draco is amazed by the level of insight Harry shows. Harry knows Draco very well.

"Good."

There is nothing more to say. They know it.

They kiss.


	41. Control

For Sunday

* * *

**Control**

_Words: 309_

_Pairing: Snape/Harry_

* * *

Severus could not control his heart beat, the jerking of his hips, the growls of pleasure, the instinctive movements, the gentle touches . . . Harry is writhing beneath him, calling his name and moaning in appreciation.

Severus should have stopped this nonsense long ago. The boy should have his heart broken already.

With twin cries, they come together. Severus lies on top of the boy. He is not thinking, his body is acting on his own. He cannot understand why his body does not obey his mind.

"May I spend the night?" Harry asks. He usually asks first, even if he stays more often than not.

'_No!'_ Severus wants to say. _'This is nothing! I don't want you. Go away!'_

"Yes," his mouth speaks for him, and his hand even has the gall of caressing the boy's hair.

Harry pulls the covers and lies next to Severus, encircling the older man's waist and being surrounded by strong arms in return – _'No! Push him away, push him!'_

They have class the next day, but the whole school knows about their affair already, anyway and Harry has his own share of space in the closet so there is nothing against the boy staying the night.

"Severus?"

"Humm?"

"I love you." Severus thinks he must've heard wrong . . . and if he didn't why is he breaking the boy's heart?

'_Don't say anything,'_ his mind tells him. _'If you don't say anything, there is nothing he can accuse you of.'_

"I love you, too," he says instead.

Harry's face brightens up and Severus feels warm and happy like he hasn't in a long time. The body is smug because it understood something the mind didn't. He suddenly realises that his mind is not complaining anymore and that is body knows very well what to do.

Severus kisses Harry.

* * *

Sequel to **Mistake**, **Realisation** and **Odd** - in this order.


	42. Family

For Saturday

* * *

**Family**

_Words: 579_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

Harry Potter was feeling very guilty.

He should be sympathetic and trying to conjure ways of making his children feel less the absence of their mother, but he wasn't. He was thrilled and excited. His children would probably be sad and feel abandoned, but Harry was the happiest man alive. And thus why he felt guilty.

Ginny had accepted a position as manager of a foreigner Quidditch team and she would be leaving in the next week. This meant that Harry would have to stay with his children indefinitely. Harry couldn't be more contented.

He and Draco would be helping Ginny bring the children's things to the Malfoy Manor the following day. Harry fought the urge to dance around the house.

He and Ginny had been divorced three years ago and these past years had been trying to say the least. He talked with James, Albus and Lily every day and he spent a lot of time together during week days and such, but it was never the same. There was still that gap that made them not-a-family.

"Harry," called a boy's voice. Harry grinned at the six-year-old blond child tugging his pants.

"Yes, Scorpius?"

"Why is father taking so long?"

"You know your father had to work late tonight, so I don't really know when he will be back," Harry repeated again. It was not the first time that Harry and Scorpius had to stay alone and Harry was happy to say that they had developed a close relationship. He knew the boy had something bothering him that he was not sharing, but neither he nor Draco could bring Scorpius to talk about it. "What's bothering you?"

"Father said that your kids will come to live with us next month," Scorpius drawled.

"Yes, that's true. You don't want that?" Even if Harry wanted to have his children with him and have his family with Draco very much, there was no way he would make Scorpius uncomfortable in any way.

"I don't mind . . ." the boy replied, hesitantly.

"But?" Harry encouraged.

"You won't stop playing with me and helping me to bed, will you?" Harry's heart almost missed a beat. He looked at the boy at his feet in wonder. Scorpius was afraid that Harry wouldn't give him attention anymore?

"That's silly, Scorpius. Of course I will keep doing those things. I care for you very much . . ." The boy seemed reassured. Harry decided to take a new approach to make Scorpius more interested. "You know that I have two boys and one girl, don't you?" Scorpius nodded. "You know, Lily likes tea parties like you, and Albus likes potions and James likes to play Quidditch."

"Really? They like all those things?"

"Yes. Do you think you would like to play with them?"

"Yes, I would! I could show Albus my potions lab and have Lily play with me in the parlour."

"Yes, you could. Wouldn't you like to have friends to play with?"

"You're being silly. Harry. They are not my friends; they are my brothers and sister." Scorpius mused, playing with Harry's hair; much like his father did sometimes. "And I can show them the house so that they don't get lost in the manor like you." Harry decided to ignore the reminder of his poor orientation sense.

The door sounded through the house and shortly after Draco appeared in the drawing room.

"So, what are you two doing?"

"Just waiting for you."

* * *

This is a sequel to **Quiet**, **Noise**, **Regret** - in this order.


	43. Faceless

For Monday

* * *

**Faceless**

_Words: 266_

* * *

Lover after lover, all of them made him feel the high with pleasure; all of them made him feel mindless and blissful pleasure. They were all skilled, all of them knew what they were doing and all of them handled his body with care and worship.

They were all faceless.

Faceless men and women, who he met in the darkest corners of the darkest pubs and discos in the darkest streets; it didn't matter, he didn't need any more.

He just needed to feel. He hadn't felt in so long. Since the war, his life was empty and hollow.

He had lost someone. Someone dear to him, someone who could be replaced. And yet, every night, he chose redheads with blue eyes to do exactly that. Everyone assumed it was trying to forget the pain of losing his wife his beautiful, redheaded wife, when in fact he was placating the pain of losing his beautiful, redhead brother-in-law.

Tonight would be no different. He sat in a bar, watching the people . . . until one finally got his attention. His hair was flaming red and his body built and muscular. Harry got up, downed his drink and moved forward―

Someone pinned his hand to the counter.

"Don't do this." He looked up and faced his captor. Raven hair and brown eyes. The man seemed pained. "You are not the only one who has lost someone. Go back home to your children!"

Harry snatched his hand free, turn around and, with the tears he hadn't dared to shed years ago in his eyes, he did exactly that.

* * *

I finally lost my creativity regarding prompt words. So, do you wanna know what I'm doing now?

I open my dictionary in a random page, I close my eyes and chose a word. That's my prompt . . . =]

This time, I got 'face', but I changed it a bit.


	44. Stars

For Tuesday

* * *

**Stars**

_Words: 202_

_Pairing: Ron/Hermione_

* * *

Some people believe that souls travel the universe like shooting stars, only to be reborn again and again. There are even some people who believe that those same souls are incomplete until they find their other half. Utter _nonsense_.

Hermione Weasley doesn't believe in idle romantic things like that. She is a practical woman. She believes in love, friendship and worth, but not in destined souls.

She enters her home after a long day in court. Today's case was a woman who had killed two unicorns' babies in order to resurrect her lost love. She was shipped to St. Mungo's right away.

Hermione is late again. She hopes her husband hasn't waited up for her. She enters the living room and there he is, sleeping on the couch waiting for her. She wonders what she would do if she lost him . . . She knows she would survive, but she also knows how incomplete her life would be.

Ronald stirs in his sleep. He is drooling and clutching the remote close to his heart. Hermione chuckles. She thinks that she would be willing to travel the universe with him after all.

Perhaps that concept is not utter nonsense in the end.

* * *

I got 'shooting star' when I opened the dictionary.


	45. Angel

For Wednesday

* * *

**Angel**

_Words: 152_

* * *

Lily Evans looked radiant. An angel . . . fallen from heaven for another man.

Her dress was pure white and her hair was pulled back, letting her red curls cascade over her exposed pale back. She was so beautiful. It was her wedding day. She was smiling broadly to her future husband while she walked down the aisle.

In the shadows of a tree, Severus Snape watched her. Like when they were young, she walked on broad light, obfuscating everyone with her beauty, while Severus crawled in the shadows, basking in her glow.

James Potter took her hand and the ancient druid started the ceremony.

Severus Snape turned around and straightened his back when her voice was carried by the wind.

"I do."

Severus sobbed and cleaned the tears that were falling from his eyes. He caressed his left arm, right above the Dark Mark. It was all he had left.


	46. Perfect

For Thursday

* * *

**Perfect**

_Words: 232_

_Pairing: In denial_

* * *

Draco Malfoy was an apologist of perfection.

Ever since he was a child, his life had been prepared to be perfect. He was perfect child, blond, blue-eyed, rosy and button-nosed. He was dressed in the most perfect little outfits, and he was exhibited with his mother on his left side and his father on his right side.

The perfect little family. Blondes with blue eyes, wealthy and caring.

When Draco grew up, there had been a time when his life was far from being perfect. Suffering, humiliation, pain, shame and death all around. That had ended and Draco made a promise to turn his life ideal again: he would be the perfect example of male perfection and his family would be perfect once again.

He married a blond woman and had a blond son.

Astoria didn't have blue eyes; her eyes were green, but for some reason Draco thought they were not as perfect as they could be and that was odd because her eyes were lovely. Even with this subtle stain on his perfect life, their life went on with perfect parties, picnics, social appearances and perfect photos.

Draco read the newspaper every morning. Frequently, the _Daily Prophet_ brought news of Harry Potter's one-night gay conquests and gay debauchery. Honestly, the Golden Boy was a flamboyant homosexual.

So _not_ perfect. Except for his eyes. Harry Potter's eyes were the perfect green.

* * *

I was watching 'The Stepford Wives' when I thought about this. =]


	47. Burn

For Friday

* * *

**Burn**

_Words: 169_

* * *

The phoenix is burning. It's the end and the new beginning, only this time the phoenix will not rise again for them. It will start a new adventure.

The friend, mentor, protector is gone and only loneliness and horror remain.

The phoenix will not rise again.

It inspires fear and wonder how such a great man could be ultimately human . . . It doesn't matter much, because he was the epitome of hope and now he's gone. Everyone is crying – with different degrees of honesty, it's true – and they are here and they are paying a last honour to their master, their leader.

The flames recess until there is nothing left but ashes.

The phoenix will not rise again. The light is gone, only darkness remains.

The marble construction erupts from the ground and the body is encased for eternity.

For him it doesn't matter the future of the world. He is free. But his followers remain in the dark, praying for the flames to burn their fears.

* * *

Okay, maybe it was a bit too dramatic for the theme, but still when the word 'burn' came out and could only remember Dumbledore's memorial. =]


	48. Dark

For Saturday

* * *

**Dark**

_Words: 174_

* * *

If anyone had told him at the age of seventeen what would become of the Marauders, Remus Lupin would have accused them of being associated with the Dark Lord – and probably crazy.

However, in his first full moon after the Potters' murder, Remus felt revolted and bitterly miserably.

James and Peter were killed. By Sirius Black! It could not have been envisioned. He guessed the call from the blood was just impossible to ignore and Sirius' blood was the darkest out there. It was amazing that he did have enough in him to be sorted to Gryffindor.

He wondered how long it would take until he fell too. This time, the transformation was almost impossible to bear. He had felt his . . . _urges_. He hoped he could stop himself if it came down to it. But it was not a strong hope . . .

If Sirius Black had proven something to him is that no matter how long you walk in the Light, a Dark creature is always a Dark creature.

* * *

Ah, Sirius _Black_ is a _dark_ man . . . Get it? . . .

Okay, probably this must be the oldest joke in the fanon – _and_ canon!


	49. Helpless

For Sunday

* * *

**Helpless**

_Words: 179_

* * *

It has been three years and nobody has come yet.

They think they're both dead, they think it's over. And meanwhile, he lives the life of a puppet doll, being used by someone greater than he is.

'_But, it could be worse,'_ Harry thinks, '_he's not so bad, he is kind and treats me very well and he loves me.'_

He's used every night and every day and there is nothing he can do. Voldemort is his life line now. He was abandoned. Harry doesn't realise this and happily bows to the dark Lord will. It has been so long since the boy was loved that he can't recognise love anymore. Voldemort doesn't love him, but Harry doesn't know.

Three years ago, Harry faced the great wizard with straight shoulders, his heart on his sleeve and his courage as a shield. He won. Voldemort lost is powers and his immortality. But he got something, he got Harry.

No one is looking for Harry; no one knows he is alive. Harry doesn't hope anymore, he doesn't live anymore. He's helpless.

* * *

What do you think of a Harry with Stockholm Syndrome? =]


	50. Creature

**Creature**

_Words: 143_

* * *

The great creature walks in the shadows. He prepares to attack. He has fixed his target. He is watching as slowly, the pitiful thing tries to hide and it cannot hide, for the great creature will catch him.

The great creature can hear people coming. He has little time left, but it's all he needs. He bends his legs and prepares to jump. Yellow eyes measure the distance and the necessary force to reach such a height.

He jumps.

The pitiful thing runs.

He follows . . . almost there, and then it will be over . . . the pitiful thing changes directions and he bumps into the closet, unable to change directions as quickly as his target . . . he still tries, he runs again . . . almost there . . . almost―

"Crookshanks!"

Bugger! The rat has escaped.

* * *

Woohoo! Half done! =]


	51. Mutt

**Mutt**

_Words: 184_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

"No, absolutely not!"

"Please, Severus."

Severus Snape looked down at his partner where he was kneeling on the floor, arms thrown around the powerful neck of an enormous black dog, a mutt. His adorable, green eyed lover was begging Severus to take a stray dog in the sanctity of their home and that was not going to happen.

"Harry, sweetheart—"

The dog growled, but did nothing else. Well, opposite to Severus reasoning, the dog was not stupid and was not about to throw away his last chance to have a home. He looked up at the Potions Master with pleading eyes. Harry did the same. Severus sighed. He had lost the moment Harry said please.

Severus felt like crying. He was sure this meant good-bye to fuck Harry in every division of the house, cuddling naked in the living room and candle-lit dinners and sex in the kitchen table as dessert. In the end the mutt had gotten what he wanted.

"I can't believe I'm sharing my house with Sirius Black."

The mutt transformed and the man who stood in his place laughed evilly.

* * *

Aw, poor Sev, Sirius is worse than an in-law . . . =]


	52. Spotless

11th of Nov―

**Spotless**

_Words: 420_

* * *

The girl blushed as she walked in Tom Riddle's Head Boy room.

Everything was so clean and tidy: well-worn books decorated the shelves, notebooks were neatly piled on the desk, quills and ink vials of several colours were carefully stored on their case. The bed was neatly made and had three decorative pillows on top of it. The rug was clean and in its place. The door to the bathroom was wide open and she could see that there were no clothes or towels on the floor; the shower curtain was drawn back and she could see the shampoos and soaps line up against the step.

Tom Riddle's room was like its owner, she thought, plainly organised and spotless.

She was not the first to visit his rooms. Oh, no his visits were not like _that_, but being Head Boy, Tom often allowed his classmates to study with him and he helped them with everything they needed. Tom was shy, though, he only offered his help when some Professor – normally only Albus Dumbledore dared to take precious study time from the brilliant student – asked him to.

For about two hours Tom Riddle helped the unknown girl with her Charms study; it was her worst subject but gladly, she left feeling much more confident. He bid her goodbye and good luck with her studies with a dashing smile on his face, and closed the door gently.

As soon as she left, Tom went in frenzy―

Manically, he rubbed clean the chair that she used, the desk where she put her things; he remade the bed where she sat for a moment when she had arrived. . . he called the house-elves to change the rug, he sterilised the bathroom and for all of that he use anti-germs products. Once everything was precisely cleaned and free of microbes, Tom allowed himself to relax . . .

Tom walked silently to the bookshelf and retrieved a black leather covered book; he returned using the _exactly_ same path and settled on the bed _exactly_ in the middle. He stretched his legs and put them in the _exactly_ same position. He open his book _exactly_ forty-five degrees to each side and reclined against the three pillows placed _exactly_ in the same position. He sighed―

The book read in big glowing red letters 'THE MYSTERIES OF THE SOUL by Salazar Slytherin'

Everything Tom Riddle owned or did had to be _spotless_ . . . but he was willing to make an exception if it meant conquering Death.

* * *

In my opinion, Tom Riddle had to be obsessive-compulsive. =]


	53. Passion

12th of Nov―

**Passion**

_Words: ~450_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

Harry Potter did everything passionately.

Well, at least as far as he knew. He could not account for all of it . . .

Potter caught wanted criminals passionately, he sang passionately, he showered passionately, he touched passionately, he kissed passionately and he probably fucked passionately, too . . . He didn't know because he had never fucked the short little bundle of passion – _Damn_ _prude!_ – He even did his groceries passionately, he mused as he watched the raven-haired miniature of a man.

How could anyone be that small at adult age, anyway? The man was what, 5'6? And those glasses . . . Potter had money, so why not buy fashionable glasses? His hair didn't even deserve to be mentioned. Potter must've been going to _barbers_ all his life, for Merlin's pants. Okay, maybe he had a good – _wonderful_, _hot_ – body, and was kind of pretty, but still, everyone should make an effort.

That's when he noticed that they had arrived at Potter's flat. Potter was opening the door and his stalker hid behind a corner, carefully assessing what could have possible made him act this shamefully because of the diminutive wizard.

"You know, Malfoy," Potter called and he almost had a heart attack. Good heavens, the man had no respect for grace and etiquette: you simply do _not_ address you potential attacker. "For starters I'm a very good Auror, there was no way you could've sneaked on me." Potter looked directly at him and his glasses were opaque from the reflected light. "Second, I'm not blind and there was no way I could've missed your shinning blond hair from across the street."

Draco Malfoy turned the corner and faced Potter with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a pout on his lips.

"Yes, well, I was―" Malfoy sneered at Potter with a proud posture.

"― Stalking your lover?" A tell-tale blush made its way to the pale cheeks; Draco glared. Potter looked amused.

"Yes, it's the only way you are going to spend some time with me anyway," Draco grumbled under his breath. Potter's face softened.

"I'm very sorry, we started to date in the middle of this very important case that―" One look from Draco shut him up. "Right, but it's over now . . ." Harry drawled, suggestively. Draco looked at him like he was a piece of meat in front of a starving man.

"Really?" he asked eagerly, fidgeting to stay still and not tackle Potter to the ground and have his wicked way with him right there. Potter reply was to pull him inside the apartment―

In the morning, Draco was absolutely sure that Harry Potter did _everything_ passionately.

* * *

I apologise by the vulgar language, but I warned my readers in the beginning of the story that there would be '_foul language'_―

I think Draco would be frustrated enough to forget his manners. =]


	54. Bond

13th Nov―

**Bond**

_Words: ~500_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

Minerva McGonagall threw the Floo Powder to the fireplace and, as soon as the flames turned green, she stepped in, announcing loud and clear, "Severus Snape's private quarters."

The Potion Master's private chambers were cosy and more welcoming than she expected or remembered. Although, it was mainly decorated with Slytherin colours, it had an unmistakable aura of home. But what most certainly gave the quarters a glow of happiness and comfort was the teen curled up in the biggest couch, with a duvet wrapped around – she assumed – his naked body and a mug of hot chocolate in his hands.

Harry Potter had a panic stricken face as he looked at the Headmistress.

"I found it," informed a deep velvet voice from the next room. Seconds later, Severus Snape appeared in the doorway – wearing only his pyjama pants and a Wireless on his hands – and froze when she noticed that Minerva was in the room.

"Sev," Harry called for help, sitting up straight and pulling the duvet more securely against his body.

"Minerva," Severus started, but she held up a hand to shut him up.

"You have been lying to me, Severus," she told him. "All the times I asked you if you were involved with Mr. Potter, if the rumours were true, you lied to me."

"If I had told you, you would have told me to break it up, expelled one of us, or―" he hesitated and she knew Harry didn't know what was the other course of action. "―Well, you know what would be the other _punishment_."

'_Such a harsh word, honestly Severus!'_ Minerva thought.

"Do you consider bonding with me a punishment?" asked a small voice from the couch. Minerva and Severus' heads snapped at the teen.

"What?" was Severus' very witty answer. Minerva shook her head. She never envied Albus' position and this was exactly why. "You know about that?" Harry nodded.

"Of course, I wouldn't be dating a teacher without knowing the consequences to it, right?" Harry asked harshly. "Or do you think me that stupid? Well, I shouldn't be surprised since this was never to last to begin with―"

"Do not say that, you wayward brat!" Severus exclaimed. Minerva was starting to feel uncomfortable, but she couldn't very well leave, nor could she? "I was lying for your sake! Or are you saying that you wish to be stuck with me for the rest of your life?!" Harry froze in shock and drew back. For Severus it was a bittersweet victory . . . until Harry spoke again.

"Maybe I am," the boy whispered. They stared at each other. Minerva decided to help a bit.

"It's not like you have a choice," she said. "I'll have the Minister here tomorrow."

Harry blushed bright red and a blissful glow made its way to his green eyes; Severus' face closed up and his eyes went suspiciously blank – which Minerva considered the equivalent of bouncing _happiness_ in Severus' body language. . .

* * *

This was actually meant to be a one-shot, I didn't see what else I could have written that wouldn't be boring or cliché, so I made it a drabble. A long one, but I kind of like it. =]

It may or may not be a sequel to **Mistake**, **Realisation**, **Odd** and **Control** – in this order.


	55. Courage

14th Nov―

**Courage**

_Words: 215_

* * *

The raven-haired boy moved to sit on the stool when his name was called by Professor McGonagall. He put the mended hat on his head and waited to be sorted.

"_Huuummm,"_ the boy heard inside of his own head. _"A truly brilliant mind, maybe Ravenclaw would suit you . . ."_ the hat mused. _"But what is this that I see? Ambition, the need to prove yourself, refinement, cunning . . . a true Slytherin, indeed!"_

The boy stood still, clinging onto the bench and waiting for the Sorting Hat's decision. He looked at the tables, and it took no time at all to locate the two boys from the train. Gryffindor.

"Not Gryffindor, please not Gryffindor," the boy begged the hat.

"_Oh, but you are fiercely loyal and infinitely brave, maybe Gryffindor would be the best choice, after all . . ."_

"Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor."

"_Are you sure? You would be well received there, with your courage and mind, you would find great friends . . ."_ the hat tried one last time.

The boy snorted. _'Yeah, right.'_

"_No? Very well, then, I shall say―"_ the hat conceded, "Slytherin!"

The Great Hall broke into applause.

McGonagall approached him and pointed the farthest table, "Come, come, Mr. Snape, to the Slytherin table."

* * *

I think _courage_ and I think Snape . . . JKR really did a number with him. =]


	56. Cute

15th Nov―

**Cute**

_Words: ~160_

_Pairing: Sirius/Remus_

* * *

Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail sat at their House table in the Great Hall. They were happily having dinner with all his school mates and merrily bickering with each other – well, actually it _would_ be one of them against the other three, except that two of those three weren't really listening, so busy they were _fawning_ over each other . . .

"―and you all said that she wouldn't go out with me, but I proved you all wrong!" Prongs ranted, while making sweet eyes to the redheaded girl at the end of the table. She saw him and waved with a shy smile. "Oh, she is so cute, so beautiful, so smart, so . . ."

"Yes, _he_ is," Padfoot agreed – listening selectively now – and he sent a seductive smirk to Moony. The boy smiled and held Padfoot's hand under the table. "Very cute."

― Prongs continued his praises to his new girlfriend, oblivious to the fact that only Wormtail was listening and giggling in the right places, whilst Padfoot and Moony had already left and were currently snogging in a dark corner somewhere near the Dungeons Entrance.

* * *

Teenagers! =]


	57. Priorities

16th Nov―

**Priorities**

_Words: ~230_

* * *

I personally met the boy today.

He is the sweetest little thing. Polite, nice, friendly and so very smart. But he has been unhappy, I can tell from the look in his eyes and the way he becomes amazed at the smallest niceties . . .

He saw his family in the Mirror of Erised. Poor boy, I know the despair one can feel whilst seeing something beyond one's hopes.

I couldn't tell him about the Prophecy. He is yet so young, so innocent. I have to tell him, I have to, he has to know that he is our _only_ hope . . . it saddens me that he will lose his childhood fighting this evil that should be responsibility of us, adults.

Poor boy.

I thrive to free myself from this responsibility, but who else can learn about Voldemort's true nature and not feel tempted? Who else can understand the subtlety of Love Magic, of the power of the mind and soul? Who else can lead the boy through the right path?

However, what has to be done must be done and, in the end, I hope the boy will forgive me.

~*~

Albus Dumbledore never knew that one day Harry come to say to his wife and two best friends, "Poor man. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders and nobody to share it with . . ."


	58. Sanctuary

17th Nov―

**Sanctuary**

_Words: ~160_

* * *

The castle stood magnificent on the green hill, like a guard to its inhabitants. Its interior was hollow and the eco of the life resounded into the hallways; there were colourful reflexes on the ground and walls' stone, caused by the coloured glass that the windows were made of. It looked so much like a cathedral . . . but it wasn't – it was a school.

Students came and went and yet the castle never changed, it never stopped guarding its charges nor did it fail them; the castle fought and protect and rebelled against any attacker, at its own expenses, to protect the life within.

Few stayed . . .

Those who did had nowhere to go . . . they hadn't families, ambitions or esteem . . . those who did stay, needed absolution for their sins – their treason of loved ones, their ambitious quests, their own suffering, their own extraordinariness – they needed a home, they needed sanctuary.

* * *

Just think about who considered Hogwarts home: Dumbledore, Riddle, Snape, Harry . . .

Besides, most of the teachers (?)had no personal life during school year, how can grown-up people ignore their needs of house and family? Yes, I believe they all had issues.


	59. Telltale

18th Nov―

**Tell-tale**

_Words: ~185_

_Pairing: Albus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy_

* * *

Like usual, Dad is arguing with Mr. Malfoy and Mum and Mrs. Malfoy are catching up, ignoring their husbands. Mrs. Malfoy looks really frightening, but she is actually very nice; I'm glad Mum is friends with her. I can see James doing stupid things with his friends outside and Lily is giggling at them. I think one of them has a crush on her.

Every school meeting is like this, but I like to come anyway, especially because of the Malfoys.

Mr. Malfoy is really good friends with Dad, even though they said it's not true and that they hate each other, I see how happy they get when they are near each other. Their eyes glow.

I wonder if mine do too when I look at – _him_. Scorpius Malfoy. He's in my year and house. He's really cute. He's prettier than any girl out there. When he talks to me, he has this blush on his cheeks and his eyes dart around and he licks his lips and then I start to think about things that I shouldn't think about. Someone has to notice that I can't control myself around him, how I grow hotter and _hotter_―

I wonder how I look when I look at him.

* * *

It's like a younger version of _Drarry_, isn't it? =]


	60. Blush

19th Nov―

**Blush**

_Words: ~240_

_Pairing: Albus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy_

* * *

At last!

Quite frankly I do not see how it is possible that the Potters are always late to every school meeting . . . Oh, look, Father has also seen them; he starts to pester Mr. Potter about proper manners and Mr. Potter answers in a very unbecoming way, but Father always fights a laugh at _his_ poor manners―

I wonder if Mother and Mrs. Potter are blind or are just pretending they don't see it. How Father and Mr. Potter are really, really _fond_ of each other. Oh, I don't think they are having an affair – they are both in denial, but even if they weren't, Mr. Potter is a Gryffindor, there's no way he would betray his wife―

Mr. Potter has a very cute son. Albus. Who has just walked in. We're both in forth year, Slytherin. He is the reason I come to these stupid meetings, just like Father and Mr. Potter come because of each other – not that they need an excuse to see each other, mind you.

Albus sits next to me and I know I'm blushing. He stares at me sometimes, very stalker-like, in fact. He has very rosy lips; my mouth dries; I have to lick my lips to keep them to myself instead of gluing them to Albus'. Albus always blushes when I do that.

I wonder why . . . and I wonder how I look when he does.

I must be blushing, I'm sure.

* * *

I don't know why, but Harry and Draco have to be on the spotlight. They insist. =]


	61. Valentine

20th Nov―

**Valentine**

_Words: ~315_

_Pairing: Albus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy_

* * *

As it got closer to the February, 14th, Albus Potter was growing more and more agitated.

Rose and Lily had given up trying to understand why and had decided to join James and Hugo in teasing him. Scorpius always told them to shut up. And it only made things worse, because Scorpius was the cause of Albus' agitation.

Albus knew he was in love with Scorpius. Harry had finally deigned his son with 'The Talk'.

After all, Harry shared Albus' attraction with blondes – not all blondes, but Malfoy male blondes. The only thing Harry couldn't do was to woo Albus' blonde Malfoy . . . Albus had everything planned already, but he was so damn nervous. A week before the Valentine's weekend at Hogsmeade, Albus found Scorpius alone in the Common Room. He took a deep breath and approached the blonde.

"Hey, Scorpius," Albus called, sitting next to the boy on the couch.

Scorpius took of his reading glasses and looked at Albus questioningly. He really looked cute. Suddenly, the speech Albus had planned to invite Scorpius to a Valentine picnic flew mind his brain and the only thing he could think of was Scorpius lips calling to him―

Albus pressed his lips to Scorpius'.

Once he risked a peek at the boy, he saw Scorpius wide blue eyes drift shut and the boy kissed back. They were clumsy and inexperienced, but it was oh, so wonderful. Soon enough, they were wrapped around each other, snogging heavily on the couch.

Draco would have been proud that his son used his usual spot.

Scorpius and Albus went out together on Valentine's Day and when Albus walked Scorpius back to their Common Room – just for the principle of the thing – the raven-haired teen turned to his date and shyly kissed him on the lips and asked Scorpius if he wanted to be Albus' valentine.

* * *

Well, I may explore Harry and Draco's relationship.


	62. Platonic

21st Nov―

**Platonic**

_Words: ~220_

_Pairing: Harry/Draco_

* * *

Harry Potter Floo'd directly to Draco Malfoy's office in the Malfoy Manor.

Harry's wife, Ginny, was visiting her brother Ron and Hermione, Astoria Malfoy was enjoying herself with her posh girl friends and their children were still at Hogwarts leaving Harry and Draco alone for the evening.

Oh, they planned on enjoying it to the fullest.

Draco received Harry with open arms and a tight embrace, but when Draco placed a hand on Harry's jaw and searched for his lips, Harry stopped him with a sad smile.

"Draco, we've talked about this." Draco pouted, looking a bit put out, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. Neither broke the embrace.

"Harry―"

"No," Harry interrupted. "I won't cheat on Ginny. I'm happy just to be able to tell you that I love you and cuddling together in the evenings."

"They know, Harry, they are anything but stupid," Draco whispered in reply.

"I know, but she still hopes I'll fall in love with her again."

"Astoria too . . ."

They both knew that was not going to happen. Draco sighed and buried his nose in Harry's hair and gently caressed his back; Harry returned the touch. Draco knew it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to temptation. But until then, perhaps this was enough.

* * *

It may be a sequel to **Tell-tale**, **Blush** and **Valentine** – in this order.

I write drabbles adjustable to your wishes. =]


	63. Broken

22nd Nov―

**Broken**

_Words: ~215_

* * *

"Professor McGonagall, Professor McGonagall," one her Gryffindor first-years was knocking on the door. "Quick, Harry is fighting with Malf―"

She gave her permission and the boy got in and came running to her, no doubt to tattle-tale. She tried to hide the photo she was holding inside her desk, but the boy saw it nonetheless. Longbottom was observant only when he shouldn't be.

"Who is that baby, Professor?" the boy asked curiously.

McGonagall gaze at the sepia photo again.

It showed a baby girl with eighteen months; the woman with her was a twenty year old Minerva McGonagall. The baby had been born a squib and Minerva's family had rejected them both. The girl, Olivia, had caught influenza and the wizarding medicines could not help her because she had no magic; she had died weeks later.

Minerva had lost contact with her husband and never had any more children. She had applied to Hogwarts' teacher position and buried the issue deep in her daily concerns. However, one day each year, Minerva allowed herself to mourn. That day, it was the fiftieth anniversary of the Olivia's death.

"It was my daughter, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville was sensitive enough to hear what was not being said, let it go and never repeated what he had learned to anyone else.

* * *

Very AR, is it not? . . . I was just wondering about Professor McGonagall's earlier life. =]


	64. Fairplay

23rd of Nov―

**Fair-play**

_Words: ~200_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

"Mount your brooms," Madame Hooch ordered. Fourteen players obeyed her without question. "Up!" The players ascended in the skies. "Captains!" she called at last. Immediately, one player from each side appeared on her side.

"The captain from the Gryffindor team, Harry Potter!" the judge announced to the public. The cheers were deafening. The raven-haired teen waved shyly. "The captain from the Slytherin Team, Draco Malfoy!" she shouted. Once again, the cheers were carried to the depths of the field, but then again, some of the Slytherins were casting Sonorous Charms on themselves. Draco Malfoy did a spin in appreciation.

"I want a fair match!" Hooch warned them. These two teams were famous for their rivalry; let's not speak about the captains. The captains nodded. "Greet each other."

Potter held out his hand and Malfoy took it, shaking it firmly. He was smirking.

Complaining about boyhood enmity, Madam Hooch prepared to signal them to start the match―

Malfoy pulled Potter against him and kissed him fully on the lips. The Gryffindor seeker blushed bright red, but did not make much of it and prepared himself for the game. It was with the smuggest smirk ever seen in Hogwarts that Malfoy did the same.

This time, it was the silence on the field that was deafening.

Finally finding her voice, Madame Hooch said "Start!"


	65. Possession

24th Nov—

**Possession**

_Words: ~400_

_Pairing: Remus Lupin/Harry Potter_

* * *

It was the 31st of July . . .

The wolf was wide awake and he growled violently at the sight of his young mate being pawed over by a horde of congratulating redheads – the colour was blinding the wolf's senses, as was the scent of alcohol and the numbing music.

Remus Lupin, the man, was startled by the display of instinctive protection from his inner nature. Never the wolf had been so protective and possessive of someone as he was of the boy. Remus had learned to silence the wolf, but even the dark creature had had enough of solitude and it was demanding release.

After over thirty years, the wolf had finally found his mate.

Remus had done his best to ignore the calling and maintain their relationship as platonic as possible, but as his mate grew and reached maturity, the wolf – who had been waiting for his mate to be ready – decided to make his appearance.

Remus sighed in exasperation. Harry Potter was not making it easy for him.

'_So, you see, Moony,'_ Remus said to his inner wolf, _'I do not have the respect of my peers, I cannot offer him a secure financial situation and I am not able of provide him offspring. I have nothing to offer. And you? What exactly can you give an alpha?'_ The wolf did not care and proceeded to tarnish Remus' pure mind with all the things he would be able to offer the boy.

The wolf growled again and struggled to attack the redhead. Remus just ignored it.

"Are you having fun, Remus?" the boy asked softly, handing him a tea cup.

"Yes, Harry, of course," was the quiet reply. "It's your birthday party, how could I not have fun?" Harry blushed and Remus found it adorable. The wolf purred.

"I'm sorry I had to make the party here . . ." Harry replied and Remus saw the insecurity behind his words. "You probably wish to rest and here we are making all this noise." The wolf growled, while Remus relished on the fact that Harry was considerate of his needs – well, not all of them, but one has to be realistic. '_The boy thinks you're old and you find it endearing! Honestly!'_ Moony snarled, but Remus ignored him.

"Not at all, Harry."


	66. Temptation

25th Nov—

**Temptation**

_Words: ~350_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

* * *

It was meant to happen—

England got to the finals of the World Quidditch Cup.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy bought tribune tickets as soon as they got out for sale; they thought about taking their children, but since it was to be held in Norway, they decided against it.

Scorpius would stay at the Potter's with his boyfriend, something that made Draco seethe in concern – nobody was fooled for one second to think that Scorpius was anything other than a bottom – and he even made Harry have a thorough conversation with his son about the issue. Which Harry did, with no other choice but to speak from Scorpius' perspective.

As it was, Harry and Draco found themselves in a tent, alone, in a dark forest, in the colder summer of Norway.

Draco exited the bathroom with a bathrobe around his body, to find Harry sitting on the table – already showered and dressed in his pyjamas – with his head buried in his arms. Draco frowned.

"Harry, sweetie?" Harry hummed in response, but didn't lift his head. "Is everything okay?" Harry kept his position, so the blond approached him and made him lift his head—

Draco's breath caught in his throat at what he saw . . . Harry's cheeks were pink with arousal and his eyes were dark with lust. Harry closed his eyes and moved away from Draco's touch.

"Don't touch me, please," Harry pleaded his voice raspy and low.

"Harry—"

"No, you have no idea how much I wanted to get in there with you, but I—"

When the kiss came, it was hot and wet and loving and caring and arousing in ways they hadn't even dared to imagine. Draco guided them to the bed.

They missed the next day's party, but it didn't matter to them. After the game they were so excited and high with adrenaline that they didn't even waited to get to the tent . . .

Skeeter caught them and published their relationship on the front page of the prophet. Only Albus, Scorpius and Lily were understanding.

—Yes, it was meant to happen.

* * *

Sequel to **Platonic**. =]


	67. Truth

26th Nov—

**Truth**

_Words: ~130_

* * *

The remedial lessons proceeded. Harry damned Dumbledore on each one of them.

One time, after staring at Harry for a very long time, Snape had commented how genetics influenced one's capacities and how poor strength of character meant that one would not rise to the challenges in one's way. His eyes glinted with horror when he realised what had left his mouth, and he clenched his jaw; for a moment, Harry thought that Snape had cast a Silencing Charm on himself, but then the Potions Master ordered him to quote all the ingredients of the Living-Dead Draught.

That time, Harry had been brewing _Veritaserum_, whose fumes were contaminated with the potion's proprieties.

When discussing it with Hermione, Harry came to realise that Snape may have not been talking about Harry at all.


	68. Talk

27th Nov—

**Talk**

_Words: ~160_

_Pairings: DMHP and APSM–_

* * *

Harry Potter had finally realised that his son had a very odd obsession with Malfoy's son.

His wonderfully dense mind had shared it with his wife and Ginny had come to the conclusion that their son was gay, which meant a terribly awkward conversation with Albus, which they had had. After sending an awfully red Albus to his bedroom, Harry decided that maybe he should have talked with his son alone – they had always been closer – and went to apologise.

For several hours, Harry and Albus had been closed in Albus' room and when – after much muffled giggling, shy sharing and hidden blushes – they finally emerged, they were sharing meaningful looks and bashful smiles.

Their relationship always made Ginny a little bit jealous, no matter how much she berated herself for it. Perhaps she might have a point in her jealousy; her son found out she was being betrayed before she even dreamt of such a thing, after all.

* * *

– I'm assuming everyone his familiar with the notation.

Consider it a side-story to **Tell-tale**, **Blush**, **Valentine, Platonic **and** Temptation** – in this order.


	69. Apologise

28th Nov—

**Apologise**

_Words: ~170_

_Pairing: Snape/Harry_

* * *

Hermione Granger barely recognised her friend. He was only a shadow of the great man he had once been; she could not believe this pitiful creature was the great Harry Potter.

Harry had survived so much and it only took Severus Snape to break him.

Snape hated Harry for breaking his trust and showing his Pensieve memories to the world, but Harry respected and admired him so much that he would endure the man's abuse and apologise for whatever Snape thought he should apologise for.

What Hermione didn't know – if her poorly conceived hints at how he should leave the older man were any indication – was that Harry was not unaware.

Harry hated feeling like this. He hated being this apologetically creature, believing he was wrong every time Snape told him he was. He hated having felt terribly lonely and incomplete these past seven years . . . always believing he could be happy again and move on _if only_ he had Snape's forgiveness.

That's why he stayed.


	70. Claim

29th Nov—

**Claim**

_Words: ~570_

_Pairing: Remus Lupin/Harry Potter_

* * *

The sun drifted through the curtains, illuminating the room and, with it, the two occupants of the bed that usually cradled only Remus Lupin.

The werewolf was the first to wake up, taking in his surroundings and wondering why the wolf felt so content when it was the day of full moon. Moony should be pacing in the jail cell that was Remus Lupin mind, but instead he was purring, relishing on the scents and feelings that surrounded Remus' body. He opened his eyes.

Suddenly, everything caught with him – he fought the urge to scream.

'_What have I done? What have I done?! Oh, Merlin!'_ He had taken advantage of Harry in the worst way possible. Moony was craving for his life mate and before the full moon he was always very agitated . . . Remus was sure that he had been so aroused and jealous last night that the wolf had been freed.

Remus shifted his gaze towards Harry, sleeping next to him. The boy was so beautiful, so perfect, so worthy . . . he should be worshiped and loved and the wolf had committed to him eighteen-years ago, exactly on the day that James had introduced his son to the Marauders.

'_Oh, sweet Circe!'_

Tea! He needed tea! To the kitchen . . . At the door, he spared a glance at Harry and made sure that the boy was comfortable. He closed the door behind him and leaned on it, trying to order his array thoughts.

Severus Snape was in the kitchen.

"Good Lord, Lupin!" he yelled. "Are you trying to send me to my grave earlier than the gods deemed to?" Severus' eyes wandered through Remus naked body and panic stricken face.

"What have you done?" Remus eyes darted around as if looking for a way out of this. Severus closed his hand around a powerful bicep and made the other look at him. "What have you done to the boy?" His voice was cold and menacing.

"I-I-I don't know . . ." he managed to choke out, but then he realised out that could be taken and he corrected himself, "I mean I do, but I don't know if he wanted it or not – I mean, he seemed to be enjoying it, but – I think he was high with pheromones, and I—"

"So, you claimed him?" the raven-haired man asked. Remus looked down and Severus shook his head in disapproval . . . "Has he said something at all? Does he know what prompted your actions?" Remus blushed.

"He's still asleep."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Severus exclaimed. "You left the boy alone after last night?!" Remus nodded. "You let an insecure boy alone after being intimate with him? Even I wouldn't do that." Remus was about to make a retort, when a tiny voice sounded through the house.

"Remus?" was heard again.

Finally, Harry entered the kitchen with Remus' duvet wrapped securely around his shoulders. Both men stared. Remus tensed and a deep blush crept up his body to his cheeks.

"Harry," he said, just for the pleasure of speaking his loved one's name.

Severus decided to amuse himself a little, and cleared his throat. He was not disappointed when both men jumped and Harry had even the grace to squeak. He chuckled when the teen blushed and looked at his feet. Remus thought it was really adorable if the goofy grin on his face was of any indication.

Gryffindors!

* * *

Sequel to **Possession**. =]


	71. Mate

30th Nov—

**Mate**

_Words: ~640_

_Pairing: Remus Lupin/Harry Potter_

* * *

"Harry?" Remus prompted, approaching the boy and closing a hand around the boy's elbow, he made Harry turn. He felt the worst man in the world at the sight of tears in Harry's eyes and the pain that marred his features.

"I don't want to be alone," the raven sobbed. "I want you here."

Remus sighed. For a fleeting moment, he believed that Harry would tell him that he wanted Remus – not someone, but Remus. But it was Harry who was important and so, Remus pulled the boy against his chest. Harry's arms encircled his waist and tightened.

"I'm sure we can get you a roommate―"

"No!" Harry exclaimed, looking up at Remus with red-rimmed eyes. "I want you! Only you!" The older wizard blinked owlishly. Did Harry just―? "Only you," the boy sobbed again rubbing his face in Remus' chest and erasing any doubts. Suddenly, a burst of happiness cursed through the werewolf's body.

"I thought you would like to get rid of the old man," Remus said jokingly. Harry didn't think it was funny and he frowned. "I was sure that eventually you would like to bring a girl home and I would be in the way." Harry looked confused. Remus sighed; the boy was too innocent.

"Why would I bring a girl―?"

"Harry, I meant―"

"I know what you mean, but why would I bring a girlfriend home when – or even better, why would I get a girlfriend when I have you?" Remus just stared.

"You have . . . me . . . Harry?" he said slowly trying to make sense of that sentence.

"I do," Harry shrugged. "I accepted you the night of my birthday, right? I'm committed to you." Remus felt the urge to laugh – from relieve, happiness or the ridicule of that statement, he was not sure.

Finally, the shock of the situation caught up with Remus mind. His heart was beating so fast, he was certain he was about to have a heart attack; his breath shortened and he started to hyperventilate. He looked up at Harry and he saw that the boy had kneeled in front of him and was now rubbing soothing circles in his back and whispering calming nothings in his ear. The warmness that Harry's care had caused was making the wolf purr in delight and Remus mind and body feel hazy with love and desire.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, touching a hand to Remus forehead. The desire inflamed once again. Harry frowned. "You are a bit overheated," he said comparing the temperature with his own. "Maybe I should call for a Healer―"

'_Oh, sweet Circe! What have I done to deserve such a grace?'_

"It's okay, Harry, I'm okay," Remus assured, at last getting control of his body. "You got it all wrong, Harry."

"I did not, I wanted it, too―"

"You were doped with the werewolf pheromones!"

"Of course I was," the boy replied. "Werewolves release pheromones to attract their mate," Remus nodded, but the satisfaction of seeing Harry understanding what happened that night was bittersweet because it meant that Harry would realise how Remus had taken advantage of him. Seeing the parade of expressions on Remus' face, Harry very accurately guessed what he was thinking and continued quickly. "Remus, only their mate is affected – if my magic hadn't recognised you as my life mate I would not have been affected by you . . ."

What Harry had said was the truth, how could he have forgotten that? But that meant―

"Harry, how do you know all of this?" Harry blushed profusely and spoke so quietly that if Remus hadn't a more sensitive hearing he would have missed it completely.

"When you are in love with a werewolf, you have to do some research." It was Remus time to blush profusely.

"Oh."

* * *

Sequel to **Possession** and **Claim** – in this order.


	72. Heart

1st Dec—

**Heart**

_Words: ~150_

_Pairing: Snape/Harry_

* * *

Harry Potter owned his house, his freedom, his life and his very soul. Harry Potter owned him.

Severus had not felt the need to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. Potter may crave his affections and he may demand his emotions, but he would not get any of it; Severus was sure that the boy's candour was a poorly schemed stratagem to make him confess a crime he and his Minister were sure he had committed.

Severus was a better man than any of them and he saw right through their schemes and plots. And if Harry were to cry every time Severus threw him out of his bed in the middle of the night, well, it was a small price to pay for being unharmed . . .

. . . Though why his heart cried with Harry was something he was yet to comprehend. Harry Potter did not own his heart.

* * *

Side-story to **Apologise**.


	73. Compatible

2nd Dec―

**Compatible**

_Pairing: AD/GG_

_Words: ~500_

* * *

The Potters' home was as noisy as usual during breakfast.

James, Albus and Lily were sitting at the breakfast table, bickering and bantering about some nonsense while Ginny finished making pancakes and Harry squeezed the oranges to make juice; the couple exchanged an exasperated glance when James sent Lily to ask their parents if it was okay to eat a Chocolate Frog while they waited. While Ginny would outright say '_no'_, Harry sent her a glance that reminded her about the glorious moments of quiet they would have if they just said '_yes'_.

Reluctantly, the mother acquiesced . . . and the predictable moments of silence came while the children chewed on the treat―

Then, the bickering started all over again. Harry and Ginny sighed; they moved to sit down and start their meal.

"Ah, ah, I got Dumbledore!" exclaimed James, unwrapping his Chocolate Frog Card. Albus bent his head disappointingly and placed his card on the table. James was delighted. "Ha, you got Grindelwald! Ah, ah!" He kept on making fun of his brother, forgetting completely about the oatmeal resting on his plate. Albus glared at James and prepared to retort, when Ginny snatched the cards out of the boys' hands and placed them in front of her, leaning it on the juice jar.

The children finished their breakfast in silence and left the table. Peace was restored for a moment, until Ginny choked on her coffee and sent splashes of brown liquid all over the tablecloth. Harry turned worriedly at her, but she didn't look up.

"Harry, dear," she called. Harry frowned, since he had been looking at her for some time and therefore there was no need to call him. "What's this?" He noticed her gaze locked on the cards in front of her―

"Oh." It was all he said. It took a while for Harry to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

Albus Dumbledore had fled from his card and was currently resting on the card next to his; he had bent Gellert Grindelwald backwards and thoroughly ravishing the evil sorcerer's mouth.

"You know, magical pictures capture the magical signature of their subjects," Harry began, "They probably had compatible magic and the cards are mirroring that," he explained his wife, racking his brains out for an example he could use; only one came to mind. "Compatible magic isn't always associated with romantic feelings, you know? Look at those two Aurors in my office; they have compatible magic and they're just frien―" Ginny's head snapped at him and she blinked in surprise.

"Cartridge and Johnson?" she asked. Harry nodded. "They ditched their wives and eloped a month ago."

"Oh."

Dumbledore and Grindelwald were thrown into a drawer and never again did Harry and Ginny speak of it.


	74. Patronus

3rd Dec―

**Patronus**

_Pairing: SS/HP_

_Words: 520_

* * *

"Honestly, Albus, is this really necessary?"

"Severus, please," Dumbledore replied, with a tone of gentle reproach. "I know that most of us are powerful wizards and witches, but it's important to make sure that our youngsters are able to defend themselves and our ideals," the old man explained gesturing for Potter, Granger, the Weasley children and other idealistic fools.

So, Dumbledore had had the wonderful idea of training the young members of the Order in duel and healing practise. Admirable, really – if he hadn't made Severus do the teaching part. Most of the days, Severus got out of Grimmauld Place, nr. 12, with a minor headache. However today, he suspected it would develop into a full-grown migraine, because once again, Dumbledore had had the wonderful idea of a duel contest.

Regardless to say, most of the Order had shown up to see the Boy-Wonder be beaten by Severus Snape.

They took their places inside the arena drawn on the floor, bowed and began to duel. After a while, Severus had to admit that Potter was putting off a fight. A moment after that he started to admire the fierce glint in boy's eyes; it made them truly _appealing_. Then, he started to notice how Potter's muscles stretched and relaxed beneath his – one could only imagine – soft skin and how supple his figure actually was―

That was when the closet in the end of the room started to shake and, without giving some of them time to react – and others, like Dumbledore, decided to leave it for the young – out of the closet emerged a full developed Dementor. The room started to get colder and colder and despair started to take over. Harry and Severus stalked forward and, lifting their wands, shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

Out of their wands came a mighty silver stag and a graceful golden doe, but neither was of any help against the creature.

Dumbledore must have thought they were wasting precious time, because he placed himself in front of the Dementor and it transformed into a young blond girl, with blue eyes full of accusation. "Al!" she yelled, but it was she said because then she evaporated into a shower of silvery confetti. It had been a Boggart. Dumbledore turned around, with a gentle smile.

"It was so simple, my boys, yet―" Dumbledore interrupted himself and directed his twinkling eyes at some point behind them. They turned. All eyes in the room were focussed on the two Patronuses, conjured a moment ago.

The stag was standing straight, exhibiting his powerful frame, and the doe was pacing around him, assessing him. She must have liked what she saw, because she stood in front of him and allowed the stag to caress her nose with his own. Harry and Severus were frozen to the spot, while their Patronuses entwined their necks and embraced.

Harry was the first to move. He dispelled his magic and ran from the room, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Severus hummed, while his doe looked longingly at where the stag had stood. Perhaps he wouldn't get out of here today with a migraine, after all.

* * *

I so wanted to make a one-shot out of this. =]


	75. Sacrifice

4th Dec―

**Sacrifice**

_Words:~500_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

"A virgin sacrifice?!" Severus exclaimed, beyond shocked at what was being required of him.

"I'm afraid so."

"Certainly, there must be another way, Albus!" Severus insisted, knowing it was a fool's errand, if the sad gleam in Dumbledore's eyes was of any indication. The other three occupants of the room looked devastated – and with good reason – but he still felt a bit desolated by the fact that one of them would not meet his eyes. Unable to help himself, Severus got up and began pacing around the Headmaster's office.

Near the fireplace, Black and Lupin flanked Potter and were embracing him as if to console him – which was probably true, anyway.

"You know there isn't," Dumbledore stated calmly. Severus hated when he did this: ambushed him and gave him no choice of saying no.

"Why me?" Severus asked, defeated, only trying to buy himself some time to regain his composure.

"You're connected to the Dark Lord, Severus," replied Lupin, gently, as if he pitied the position Severus was in. "And you're powerful enough to help Harry direct the spell in the right direction."

"We wouldn't want any other Death Eater to take your position, now, would we?" Dumbledore pointed out. Severus really did hated this.

"Don't put him in that position, Professor," said a weak voice somewhere from the direction of the fireplace. Looking up, Severus realised that it had been Harry Potter to speak up and that the boy looked sickly pale. Severus couldn't blame him. Who would want a nasty Potions Master, whose allegiance was dubious in the least? Suddenly, Severus understood all too well the sacrifice required of this boy . . .

"Listen to me, Mr. Potter," Severus began urgently, "you don't own anyone anything. Forget what this Gryffindors tell you, and refuse this." Harry just stared and, for once, the last thing on Severus' mind was his own well-being; suddenly, it was worth it to protect Harry's innocence at all costs. Harry looked unsure for the first time since he had walked into the room.

"After this, it will be over," Harry reasoned. Black and Lupin were looking back and forth between them and Severus realised they were urging him to convince Harry not to do this.

"At what cost?" Severus asked. "Your childhood, your innocence? These things don't return and I assure you you will regret this. When Voldemort is defeated, you'll have lost every good experience you should have had during your adolescence." Harry looked away. "This should be only about yourself."

Sirius was looking at hims aghast and, then, the unthinkable happened: with a look of utter respect, Sirius nodded once at Severus, silently thanking him for his words and offering truce.

Dumbledore had to smile. The ritual hadn't even begun and the darkness was already cowering in sight of the courage these two men represented; they were willing to make a sacrifice out of pure selflessness.

* * *

Geez, sorry, I was feeling a bit Dark. =]


	76. Mirror

5th Dec--

**Mirror**

_Words:~300_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

Severus closed his eyes instinctively when he stepped in front of the mirror. He couldn't look at himself, he couldn't face the man he had become. He had commited so many sins, but this one made him sink into a new level of darkness . . . Taking a boy's innocence . . . He didn't think he could forgive himself for this, nor Dumbledore for putting him in this position for that matter.

Steeling his nerves, Severus took a look at himself and was disgusted by what he saw. He was so ugly, with his marred body, his tainted soul and his hideous face. _This_ was what the boy would have for his first time being touched by another.

Severus decided right there in that moment that Harry would enjoy himself, even if Severus had to use an illusion for that to happen. What gave him hope was that, maybe, afterwards, the Dark Lord would be gone and Harry could make up for the everything he had lost and he could be happy, without the shadow of Voldemort creeping in behind him. Severus would do anything to assure the boy's victory.

Severus entered the ritual chamber. The first thing he saw was Harry, standing beside the altar, with his body glowing beneath the soft nightgown he wore. The boy was breathtaking. Lean and wiry muscled; short, but strong and so, _so_ graceful . . .

Severus felt desolation well up inside him at the thought he was about to disgrace what was left of virtue in this mad world.

* * *

Sequel to **Sacrifice**.


	77. Responsibility

6th Dec--

**Responsibility**

_Words:~220_

_Pairing: Charlie/Harry_

* * *

"Oh. My. God!"

When Sirius had decided to wake his godson up so that he, Harry and Moony could go out for breakfast - and thus escaping a horde of chatting Weasleys - he hadn't expected this. In worse case scenario, Sirus thought he would walk in to find Harry with morning wood, perhaps in the throws of a wet dream and, hopefully not, with a pretty girl, who had sneaked in at night - even though they were short of choices at the moment, being at war and all.

However, he had never, _never_ expected the one who would sneak in at night to be a man . . .

A Weasley? Absolutely; with so many of them in the house, the odds were on their side. But, a man? Hell, no!

Oh, Sirius was not homophobic. In fact, he had a personal interest on the subject, if the werewolf laying on his bed, two floors up in his bedroom, was of any indication. But, by the way Harry was snuggling against the Weasley second eldest, Harry had been _taken_.

Oh, he didn't know how, they could flip a coin to find out for all he cared, but a marriage was going to ensue. _Someone_ had taken his pup's virtue and _someone_ was going to take responsibility.


	78. Trials

7th Dec--

**Trials**

_Words:~250_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

Harry stood in front of the altar, wearing only a rather translucent nightgown. He was nervous and feeling ill, but he was starting to detach himself from the reality, an exercise he hadn't performed since his days hunting Horcruxes, when he felt the darkness closing in on his mind every awaken moment.

Severus walked in then, and Merlin! The man was fit. A broad chest, defined muscles and too many scars that asked for admiration; even his face, so sour and sneering most of the time, had soften into a sad sorrowful resignation. His hair was wild and loose around his face, somehow compensating for his nose.

"You may close your eyes, if you wish to, Harry," Severus said when he saw Harry's gaze locked on his ugly person, and each word stung somewhere near his heart. Harry frowned, confusing Severus.

"Why?"

"I am not be the one you should be seeing right now." Harry looked down, unable to deny the implicit true in the man's words. Harry did not want this, and he loathed with passion the thought of having his choices taken from him, but his life had never been quite what one could expect from it.

"And you should not be put through such trials," he said, at last, with sudden inspiration. "It's not just me who had no choice in this."

Severus swallowed thickly and glanced away, unable to face such honesty, when he should be crawling in the darkness and not basking in a light that was not his to take.

* * *

Sequel to **Sacrifice** and **Mirror** - in this order.


	79. Fool's Errand

8th Dec--

**Fool's Errand**

_Words: ~400_

_Pairing: Severus/Harry_

* * *

They didn't have a choice.

Harry laid himself on his back and waited - for what he was not sure; it may be for it to be over, or for it to begin.

Severus did not kiss him, but he touched him everywhere he could reach, making Harry hot and eager for something, anything. When the man's fingers breached into his body, Harry was hit by what he was about to do and he turned away, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, as he begin to feel used and useless.

A hand cupped his cheek.

"It's okay, Harry," Severus said and, just those three words made the tears spill uncontrollably. "I've got you."

Harry looked up to see Severus watching him with deep eyes full of sorrow and regret. The hand on his cheek stroked gently. Harry tightened his hands around the stone where he lay, suddenly yearning for more of those dulcet tones, that were so close to words of care . . . Harry hadn't heard many of those in his life.

Without warning, Harry was filled with something larger and hotter; unable to help himself, he cried. He lost any coherency he had left and was reduced to a sobbing mess . . . But, then, there was someone whispering wonderful words in his ear and there was something inside of him that was being hit with each of Severus' thrusts, which made Harry grow hard and hot. And suddenly, it was good - it was okay; it still hurt, be he was going to be okay.

The tension reached its peak and, with a strangled cry, Harry spilled his seed all over their bodies. He felt Severus still on top of him, an unexpected pressure on his behind and something cold dripping between his thighs; Severus had came, too. The man was flushed and had a peaceful expression on his face, like Harry had never seen.

When he noticed Harry watching him, his expression hardened and a streak of guilt flashed in his eyes, as if he was upset for having enjoyed himself. Harry didn't mind, because, right in that moment, he felt less alone and _happy_.

Harry felt the urge to hug the man and, unable to think of a reason not to, he did so. Severus froze and tensed, but then relaxed and returned the embrace. In this, they were together.

* * *

Sequel to **Sacrifice**, **Mirror** and **Trials** - in this order.


	80. Memories

9th Dec--

**Memories**

_Words: ~300_

_Pairing: Draco/Harry_

It was Saturday afternoon. Harry James Potter sat in his study in front of the fireplace, reading a book. There would be a time when Harry would use his weekend afternoons to go jog or fly, but not anymore.

Now, he felt every little bit of his sixty-three years. Now, exercise for him was yoga, to keep himself in shape – _and_ his joints working properly.

He heard the door open. There was only one more person allowed in these quarters, so he knew it was his spouse. He felt, more than saw, a warm body sit behind him and two strong arms encircle his waist.

"Let's go out for dinner," his blond angel whispered in his year.

Harry snuggled closer to the body. It didn't matter how many times they had been together, the safety of these arms, the magnetism of this body, the love in these eyes was never getting old or tiresome. Even after forty years of marriage.

"No, let's stay here," Harry whispered back.

"In the mood for cuddling, are we?"

"Yes." The blond man chuckled. He caressed Harry's neck with his nose. Harry brought one hand up to the blond's hair and ran his fingers through it.

And they stayed like that for a long time, each basking in the other's presence, enjoying the fleeting touches and the soft caresses.

It had been a lifetime. Children had been born, had grown up and had left. Dark wizards, job proposals, annoying students, careers made and reputations built; and in the end he still laid himself in the arms of Draco Malfoy in a room of Hogwarts.

Yes, it had been a lifetime. All those memories. And there was still so much to come . . .

* * *

**Afterword--**

Okay, that's a wrap!

I think my imagination has died - for drabbles, at least. I'm sorry I couldn't carry this through. Maybe if I had indeed posted one chapter each day, it would have been easier. As it is, I will miss the twenty last chapters.

To those who reviewed, thanks a buch for the kind - and some times, excited - words. I hope you enjoyed my drabbles. =]


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